Friction
by Baloo
Summary: [Complete] Post-DDA -- When Alec’s little slip-up sends Joshua out seeking vengeance, it’s up to Max and Alec to get to him before White does... and not kill each other in the process. MA
1. Dawg Day Life

**Spoilers:  **Up to and including "Dawg Day Afternoon"

**Summary:**  When Alec's little slip-up sends Joshua out to seek vengeance for Annie's death, it's up to Max and Alec to get to him before White does… and not kill each other in the process.  M/A

**Disclaimer:**  Yes, that's right, not mine.

**A/N:**  I know it says "humor" in the description, and this chapter isn't all that humorous… but Annie's death was really upsetting and I just don't know how to deal with that part lightly.  Don't worry, it'll brighten up soon enough.

**Friction**

**Chapter 1:  Dawg Day Life**

The old house was dark.  The general lack of light was no surprise; after all, it had been that way from the beginning, since Joshua had moved in and made it home.  But there was more to it now, not just a lack of illumination, but the mood as well.  Where once there had been a lively atmosphere, of hope and occasional laughter and of companionship, there was only pain and empty silence.  It wasn't a place to lie low and to meet up with friends any longer.  It was a place to nurse open wounds and cradle broken hearts.

Max stood, watching helplessly as Joshua sat in the corner of the small room in front of the tiny window, gazing out into the sullen gray sky.  It wasn't even longing in his eyes as he observed the world he couldn't be part of, the world that wouldn't welcome any of them for their differences.  That desire to belong had been lost along the way, lost as the nightly news played on, oblivious to his pain and his regrets, lost as he waited the following day, from dawn to dusk, hoping against all logic that perhaps they were mistaken and the promise that had been made down there, beneath the broken city, would be kept.

Around him rested his paintings, a half dozen at least, the subject of each the same, a brown-haired, green-eyed girl with a gentle face and hesitant smile.  One blank white canvas sat in the middle of the reverent mess, untouched and unnoticed.  He hadn't painted anything, not since that night before the whole sordid adventure began.  He hadn't even touched a brush, picked up a pallet.  The only acknowledgement he made of his art was when he would turn to those pictures, and stare, just stare at them with that defeated slump to his broad shoulders, long scraggly hair falling into his face, hiding his expression from her, and from the world that wouldn't even have stopped to look before beating him down in the name of some perverse sense of justice.

"How's he doing?" a voice inquired softly at her side. 

Max shrugged, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat.  Her eyes didn't stray from Joshua's large frame.  "Same as he's been doing for the past week.  Barely holding on, and only because he doesn't have any other choice."  She sighed heavily.  "Poor guy.  I can't imagine what he's going through."

"I can," Alec replied quietly, so quiet that even with her enhanced hearing she almost didn't hear it.

Max turned toward him, surprised by his slight admission.  But his face was closed off, his eyes uncharacteristically dark and giving away nothing.  For just an instant she let herself study his profile as he watched Joshua, oblivious, too caught up in his own memories to really see him.  Something made her want to reach out, to ask him about that, but something else kept her from doing so.  Then she turned her gaze forward once more.

"I've tried talking to him, but all I can get out of him is a word or two.  Yes, no, I don't wanna talk about it."  She paused for a brief moment.  "Anyway, I don't want to leave him alone, but I have to get to work.  I can't miss another day again so soon.  Normal's already riding my ass about the last week."

Alec, who had snapped out of his daze, faced her.  "Don't worry about it.  I'll stay with him."  At her questioning look, he explained, "It's my day off."  When she continued to stare at him, he went on, "I don't have anything else planned."  Still she remained unconvinced.  Alec sighed in exasperation.  "Really Max, I don't mind.  As difficult as it might be for you to believe, canine boy's really grown on me."  He shrugged his shoulders without elaboration.  "I consider him a friend."

Max took a deep breath and shook her head.  "I know Alec," she finally replied, letting her tone sound just a touch apologetic.  "You've been looking after him pretty good these past few days, and I don't mean to imply that I don't believe you…"

"But?"

"But I just have a hard time dealing with you playing the part of the shoulder to cry on.  You're doing it so often now," she forced a smile to her face, wanting to lighten the mood and divert the conversation away from any potentially dangerous topics, "Well, I'm tempted to ask who you are and what you've done with my Alec."

Her efforts were rewarded with the familiar cocky grin.  "_Your_ Alec, am I?  And when exactly did you take ownership?"

Max rolled her eyes and held up her closed fist.  "Well, let's review, shall we?"  She extended one finger.  "I named you"—second finger—"You followed me home"—finger number three—"And no matter what I do, I can't seem to get rid of you"—number four—"And, you're constantly hanging around, mooching off whatever food I bring by."  She dropped her hand to her side and gave him a smug half-grin.  "Let's face it, I might as well slap a collar on your neck and get you neutered."

"Woah, Maxie," Alec quickly replied, taking a giant step backward, hands raised in a defensively.  "Let's not be so hasty there."  He dropped his hands and shifted his pants somewhat, a grimace marring his features.  "You've already made me re-experience puberty.  It took them over a week just to drop again after our last altercation."

"Alec, that's disgusting!" Max exclaimed, giving him a look to that effect.

"It was painful too," he remarked, unrepentant.  "And you never did apologize for that."

She paused and gave him a blasé shrug that would have done Original Cindy proud.  "Cuz I'm not sorry.  I did what I had to do.  And I did give you an out, but you and your greed chose not to take it."

He matched her look with a glare but didn't respond.  Finally, when their little staring match lost its appeal, he spoke, "Anyway, didn't you say something about leaving?"

Raising an eyebrow, she answered, "I'll try not to take offence, because I know you didn't mean it the way it came out."  Turning, she left him and walked into the cozy living room.

"Don't try too hard," the words floated over to her, not loud, but more than loud enough for her ears.  Max ignored him.

"Hey big fella," she said softly, crouching down before the windowsill, resting one gloved hand on his knee.  Joshua glanced over at her with mournful eyes.  Inwardly, she cringed at the raw pain evident there.  She was so used to people covering their pain with well-wrought masks that it was almost overwhelming to see that turmoil so naked and revealed.  Max swallowed the lump forming in her throat.  "I have to get to work, but Alec's gonna stay with you.  Alright?"

"Alright," he replied, his attention returning to the window.

Suppressing another sigh, she raised herself to full height.  "Take care big fella," she whispered, and after a moment's hesitation, headed toward the door.

Before she could leave, the mumbled response made its way to her, "Take care little fella."

Max stopped, hand resting on the frame of the open door.  She glanced toward Alec.  "Take care of him."  He answered with a solemn nod.


	2. Oops, what have I done?

**Disclaimer:**  Well, I haven't made any acquisitions lately… so, I guess that means still not mine.

**Friction**

**Chapter 2:  Oops, what have I done?**

Alec wandered about the little house, bored out of his mind.  He'd rummaged through the fridge several times over, and found nothing suitable—hopefully Max would bring something by after work—shuffled through the piles of junk in the basement until he could map out the room by memory, and made several failed attempts to engage Joshua in conversation.  And it had only been two hours since Max had left the pair alone.

T.V. was out of the question, since last week's events were still big news, and combined with the general anti-transgenic hype, no program on any channel was safe from regular updates and newsbreaks.  Joshua's wounds were already painful enough without the extra salt.

At this point Alec was so desperate, he was actually considering reading one of "Father's" books.  Or using them to build a fort.  And it was sad just how interesting the latter prospect sounded right now.

Finally, he plopped onto the ratty little couch, dropped his head back, on leg swung over the armrest.  Guess it was time for a little more one-sided dialogue.  "So I'm wondering how to get my hands on this twenty-five large I'm supposed to pay Max"—he didn't know why he still bothered; it was like talking to a wall—"Usually, I'd just pull a job and get it over with"—maybe if he sat in front of a mirror, he could at least _pretend_ this was an actual conversation—"But what with this whole keeping a low profile thing, I don't think Max would be very happy if I did that."

To his surprise, Alec felt a large hand gently pat his shoulder, and he glanced up to see an upside-down Joshua walking past the back of the couch.  "Alec make Max happy."

Alec frowned, unsure of whether that was meant as instruction or observation.  If there was a little more zest to the words, he might have guessed warning.  Then he suddenly realized that he had just attained his oh-so-elusive goal—a response.  Now this was what he was talking about.  A little more 'di' in the dialogue, and a little less… whatever the hell that was supposed to come after that.  All he knew was that he had discovered what he had once thought impossible was true—even he could get tired of the sound of his own voice eventually.

With far more excitement than should have been possible for the achievement, he leapt to his feet.  "Sure thing buddy, whatever you say," he eagerly agreed, slapping Joshua's back.  The move would have knocked a normal grown man to the ground, but Joshua took it as easily as Alec had delivered it.

"So," he continued, rubbing his hands together, "What are we going to do now?"

Joshua gave him a look then settled into one of the other vacant seats, pulling a book resting on a nearby table into his hands.  "Joshua going to do nothing.  Alec do whatever he wants."  He raised the book in his hands.  "Read book.  Stay inside.  Lie low and no one gets hurt."

Exasperated, Alec sat down next to him and looked at him pleadingly.  "C'mon buddy, don't be like that.  Just because of what happened, doesn't mean you have to stop living."  His words had no effect and Joshua continued to stare at the tiny black words that covered the page.  "Look, I'm sure that Annie—"

"Alec," Joshua interrupted, a warning to his words, his voice almost a growl.  "No talk about that."

The finality in his tone was obvious, and Alec put up his hands in surrender.  "Alright.  If you don't want to, we won't."  He shrugged.  "Besides, talking things through is more of a Max thing anyway."  No response.

Fine, screw this.  With a shrug, he got up from his seat and made his way to the cluttered bookcase, and proceeded to gather into his arms as many as he could carry.  Then he returned to the center of the room with his stash, securing an empty span of the floor.  He could see Joshua, eyes directed at the open pages, trying to pretend he wasn't curious about what he was doing.

One couldn't blame Alec, really.  He'd tried everything else to pass the time, and this was a last-resort solution.  It was only out of concern for Joshua—and the fact that he'd told Max he would—that he stayed at all, when he could just as easily have made his way to the Crash or somewhere else equally more interesting than here.  Besides, he'd never had a chance to do this as a kid.

So, whistling jovially, Alec set about making his fort.  At first it was just a matter of building up the walls, which simply required gathering enough books for the job.  But as he continued, he found himself confronted with the much more intricate task of trying to incorporate peepholes for lookout posts on each wall, and enough stability to the structure to withstand an outside attack.  He subbed in larger, sturdier books for some of the smaller ones he'd initially used for the base.

As he worked, he began to speak knowing that Joshua would at least be listening even if he might not openly acknowledge his words.  After all, he'd been reading the same two pages for the past twenty minutes now.  "I know Max wouldn't even consider it, but you know, the smartest thing right now would be to try to get out of Seattle.  After all, this is where they expect us all to be, with the Manticore base blowing up and all.  I bet this whole hysteria's a lot less worse in the rest of the country."  He paused as one particularly old book with a weak spine threatened to collapse an entire wall.

"Anyway," he continued, after managing to fortify the weak area with a more reliable unit, "It's White that we really have to worry about.  As if it wasn't bad enough when we thought he'd just been hired by the government to kill us… now it turns out he's working for the Familiars, who are also trying to kill us.  Or expose us, which is pretty much equivalent to killing us."

"Expose us?" Joshua questioned, no longer looking at his book or trying to keep up the pretense of reading.

"Oh, yeah, I guess you missed that part.  Logan got his hands on the hoverdrone video of that sector police run-in from a couple of weeks ago, the one that started this whole thing."  Alec faltered, seeing that his stack of books had run out.  Standing, he walked to the bookcase, grabbing another armload and bringing it back to his burgeoning creation.  "And White was there," he continued, both the conversation and construction.  "Watched the whole thing, and looked pretty happy about the way it turned out."

"But White supposed to keep secret," Joshua protested.

"Yeah," Alec agreed.  "That's what we all figured.  But then, he's working for two sides, so I guess he's putting one's orders above the other's.  So, long story short, it looks like he's trying to rile up the public, make them hate us so they'll do his job for him.  And," he dropped his head a second, choosing his words carefully, "after last week, he's succeeded pretty well."

There was a moment of silence, then Joshua replied in a quiet voice, "But that not White.  That was sector police."

Alec shook his head.  "No, the sector police was chasing you, but White was there too.  Max saw him.  He must have known she was there or something, and gone in there after her."

"Annie," the horrified whisper drifted across the room to Alec's ears.  He nodded.

"Yeah.  We figure it was probably him.  Only explanation that makes any sense.  And he certainly fills the requirements with that 'superhuman strength' thing."

There was a long period of silence, then Alec finally sat back to enjoy his efforts.  A little empty space remained still, but he had already used up all the books in sight… he turned suddenly and snatched the forgotten book out of Joshua's hands.

"Thanks buddy."

It fit perfectly, and Alec grinned triumphantly as he appraised his work.  Not bad for a first try.  He glanced over at Joshua, who was watching as well.

"Well," he said, standing and stretching, finding himself a little worn by his exertions.  He sat down in the empty armchair, digging himself comfortably into his seat.  "I think I'll catch a bit of shuteye, if you don't mind."

"No, don't mind," he heard the absent reply before he drifted off.

*********

He was rudely awoken to the feel of something hitting his foot.  No, scratch that, _someone_ _kicking_ his foot, he realized as he opened his eyes to find Max staring down at him.  "Where's Joshua?" she demanded.

"What, no kiss good morning, no cup of coffee?  Just a kick and a 'where's Joshua'?  If I _were_ your dog, it'd be time to call the animal abuse folks by now."

She shrugged.  "Well, if you tell me where to find Joshua, I can get him to give you that kiss good morning.  Although it isn't exactly morning."

Alec glared at her silently.  Then he mimicked her shrug.  "He's around here somewhere," he replied with a yawn, causing Max to turn away with a roll of her eyes.  Rubbing his face, he managed to take a peak at his watch.  "Wow, I can't believe I slept so long."  Max glanced at him over her shoulder.  "I mean, so late—I can't believe I fell asleep so late.  I guess all that fun and conversation with Joshua just passed those hours by."

Ignoring him, she gazed over at the center of the living room floor.  "What's that?"

He followed the direction of her eyes.  "Um," he answered sheepishly, "that's my fort."

She stared a moment, on eyebrow raised, but then surprised him when she finally gave an appreciative nod and a, "Not bad."  Before he could respond, she walked away.  "Joshua!  Hey big fella, where are you?"

"Maybe he's in the basement," Alec suggested, dragging himself up from the couch.

He heard the door open and footsteps down the stairs.  "Joshua?"  A minute later, Max returned to the room.  "He's not there."  Her expression conveyed her deep worry.  As if she hadn't been protective enough of the big guy before, the events of the last week had truly brought out the mother hen in her.  For a moment, Alec was tempted to ask if she had any chicken DNA in her.  Then he rethought it, figuring he'd rather not suffer through the aches and bruises.  If ever she might see the humor in the remark—which was still rather unlikely—now was not the time.

He was about to comment, when something on the nearby table caught his eye.  He picked up the folded piece of paper and found a somewhat crudely written 'MAX' on the cover.  "For you," he informed her, holding out the little sheet.  But the gesture was futile, because Max snatched it out of his hand before he could even finish saying the words.

"Little fella," she read aloud.  "Don't worry about me.  Don't try to follow me.  Tired of lying low, tired of people getting hurt.  Have to do this alone.  Joshua."  Max skimmed the note over again before looking toward Alec.  "What is he talking about?  What does this mean?"

Alec shrugged, equally confused by the cryptic message.  "I have no—"  He broke off, sudden realization hitting him.

"What?" she demanded.  "What's up with the 'oops, what have I done' look?"  Her fists were already clenched at her sides, just waiting for the smallest excuse to lay into him.

"Uh," he stammered, trying to find the words that would earn him the least amount of pain.  "I might have, kind of, said something to him earlier… about Annie… and how it was White who killed her…"

Max stared back at him incredulously.  "You did what?!" she finally exclaimed.  Then she did hit him.  Just a punch to the arm, but Max not being your average girl, it was quite the punch.  Alec took the blow without complaint, only raising a hand to rub the spot instinctively.  "What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Well, I _wasn't_ thinking he would go after him," he defended feebly.  Hey, he felt awful about it, really, but she couldn't blame _him_ for Joshua's unpredictable reaction, could she?

"And what did you think he would do?  Take it with a grin and a 'gee, that's nice'?  Why would you even tell him that?  How could it possibly make him feel any better?"  Apparently, she could.

"It wasn't like that," he tried to explain, scratching the back of his neck nervously.  "We were talking—well, _I _was talking—and it just sorta came up."

"How does something like that just come up?" she demanded, her usually full lips drawn into a rather thin line.  Before he could reply—well, before he even had a _chance_ to reply, because he didn't really have an answer anyway—she threw up her hands.  "You know what, never mind.  We can talk about this later."  She gave him a seething glare before heading toward the front door.  "Right now, we have to go after him.  We have to find him before someone else does and he gets himself killed.  Or worse."

Alec grabbed his coat, pulling it on as he followed her out into cool night.  "You have to tack on that last little bit as a scare tactic, don't you?  As if ending up dead isn't bad enough… 'or worse'."

The next sound that followed was that of Alec "tripping" down the front porch and landing on the very hard sidewalk.


	3. I got your back

**A/N:**  In case you've been wondering about the lack of M/A action, I do plan on getting to it, but I'm not just going to jump to that part.  I think it needs development, so that's what I'm gonna give it.  But it _will_ happen.

**Friction**

**Chapter 3:  I got your back**

After picking himself up from his fall and brushing off his clothes in a very deliberate manner—which, Max thought with a roll of her eyes, showed just how little _physical_ injury he had suffered—Alec inquired, "Where are we going?"

"To Logan's," she replied in a tone still sharp with anger at his stupidity, "To see if he can help us locate Joshua."  She eased onto her ninja and Alec followed shortly.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?"  Was it her imagination or was there a touch of concern to his voice?

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, shifting in her seat and placing her hands on the handles, but she didn't start the bike.

"You know," he replied awkwardly, "what with the way things are between you two and all… you still want to be going to him, asking favors?"

Max turned in her seat, as much as was possible, and gave him a seething glare.  There was such little room between them, he had to lean back away from her just to avoid having her head hit him in the face.  "First of all, Logan is mature enough to put aside personal feelings to help someone in need.  Second, Joshua's his friend too, and he'd want to make sure he doesn't get himself hurt.  And third, this whole thing's _your_ fault anyway, so you shouldn't be wasting my time asking stupid questions."  Besides, last week, after all that had happened, Logan had assured her she could always count on him… no matter whatever else was going on between them.  There was no reason why she shouldn't believe him.  Right?

"Fine, fine," he said, his tone surrendering, eyes wide in purported innocence.  "I was just looking out for you two, is all."

"Whatever.  Just shut up."  Starting the bike, she pulled away from the side of the road.

God, she couldn't believe what an idiot he could be sometimes!  Even after all they'd been through lately… with the whole Ben thing, and then what happened with Joshua and Annie, when she started to have some faith in him… he had to go and screw it all up, just like that.  One stupid, careless remark.  What was he thinking?

"Alec!" she shouted over her shoulder, knowing the wind would carry her words to him.

"Hmm?" he replied in her ear.

"Ever heard of personal space?"

He shifted closer which, a second ago, she wouldn't have thought possible.  But that was Alec, wasn't it?  Always eager to prove her wrong.

She couldn't see his expression, her eyes were glued to the road as the city passed them by as a blur, but a mental image of his customary smirk popped into her mind.  He set his chin on her shoulder.  "What's the matter Maxie?  Am I making you uncomfortable?"  His warm breath hit her neck and the bike swerved a bit.  She told herself it was just because it was unexpected and it tickled.

"No," she returned.  "But _you_ might feel a little uncomfortable when you hit the ground going sixty miles an hour."

She felt, more than heard him sigh, yet another glaring reminder of his overwhelming nearness.  "Always turning to violence as a solution," he chided, but he backed off.  It was crazy, but along her back, everywhere he had been and no longer was, she felt a little colder.

That's insane!  It's just a cold night; it's the wind.  It has _nothing_ to do with _him_.

Right, then why are you feeling the cold at your back when the wind is hitting you from the front?

Max ground her teeth together.  "Shut up," she hissed.

"What?  I didn't say anything!" Alec protested.  She didn't correct him, grinning slightly as she reveled in that tiny bit of victory over the nagging voice inside her head.

When they reached Logan's place, she was the first to hop off the bike, with Alec trailing behind her.  "Hey, hold up."  She didn't slow her furious pace.  "A few seconds either way's not going to make much of a difference."

Max slammed the button of the elevator and turned toward him.  She would have gone for the stairs, but knew that it would only have given him more fodder for his incessant complaining.  She glared up at him.  "Yeah, but those few hours that you spent snoring away might've."

"Yeah, well," he replied as they entered the elevator, "If I _hadn't_ been asleep, he wouldn't even have left."  He paused, a frown passing over his face.  "No, that's not right."  He scratched his head.  Once in the tiny compartment, she pressed the button for Logan's floor, several times—click, click, click!  And then she added a couple of more clicks, just for emphasis.  "Yeah, so if I hadn't been asleep, he would've left _some other time_, maybe when no one was there to watch him.  At least this way he doesn't have much of a head start."

Resisting the urge to hit him, Max clenched her fists at her sides instead.  "Okay, how much of a head start does he have on us?" she said, glancing up as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.  "How long were you asleep?"

"Not long…" he hesitated and she shot him a look.  "Three, maybe four, hours?"

Max froze, two steps away from the door to Logan's apartment, and turned to stare at him.  "_Three or four hours?_"  Alec took a cautious step backwards.  "You're a transgenic.  You don't even need to sleep three or four hours a night!"

"No, I don't _need_ to, but we're not in Manticore anymore, Max.  We can indulge ourselves every once in a—"

The door opened, cutting off his defense, and Logan stood glaring at them both.  "Get in here," he ordered, stepping aside to let them by.  Max went first, carefully avoiding any sort of contact as she passed, and Alec followed.  Somewhere down the hallway, another door slid open and they heard Logan's voice.  "Oh no, Mrs. Morstenson… it was just a couple of friends of mine."  They couldn't make out the other person's reply, and Max was trying not to eavesdrop as she stalked to the center of the spacious living room.  "Just had too much to drink… I hope they didn't disturb you.  It won't happen again."

Max glared at Alec as he casually seated himself on Logan's leather couch.  They had come here to get a lead on Joshua's whereabouts and he was getting himself nice and comfortable like this was some sort of social call.  At least he wasn't poking around in Logan's fridge.  As if on cue, he stood, gaze directed toward the kitchen.

"Sit down," she hissed, and he looked at her.

"What?" he mouthed innocently.  She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes.  He gave a dramatic sigh as she turned away, but returned to his seat.

Outside, in the hallway, they could hear Logan speaking again, "No, Mrs. Morstenson, I'm sure your niece is a lovely girl… no, no, it's alright, I don't need to see a picture.  I'll take your word for it… but like I told you before, I'm just interested in getting involved with anyone at the moment."

Max could feel Alec's eyes boring into the side of her head, but a voice inside her head—a saner much more reasonable voice than the _last_ one—instructed her to ignore him.  She complied for a moment and then thought, screw that.  She gave him an unobstructed view of her finger instead.  Almost-silent laughter drifted to her ears, and she was sorely tempted to look over, but she didn't.

Finally the door closed and Logan joined them inside.  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the pair before him, alternating from Max to Alec, and back again.  The look he gave them was one he might have given to a couple of kids who'd sent a baseball through their neighbor's window.  She almost expected the next words out of his mouth to be, "What do you have to say for yourselves?"  Digging her hands into her pockets, she returned his stare.

"The next time you decide to drop by, you might want to rethink using the word 'transgenic' out in the hallway.  It's not a term that's evoking a lot of positive emotions these days."  His expression was stern, but at least it lacked the awkwardness that been between them since their break-up.  Then she caught the more-than-usually hostile glare in Alec's direction.  Well, almost.

"Look Logan, we need your help," she stated abruptly.  The reprimands, though not entirely undeserved, could wait until another time.

"Oh," he replied.  He looked away as he took his customary seat in front of his computer, swiveling it so he faced them.

"It's Joshua," she hastily explained.  He glanced up quickly, worry causing his brow to furrow slightly.

"What's wrong?"

She almost sighed in relief.  What she'd told Alec was true… even if a tiny part of her had still doubted the fact until this moment.

"Someone"—she sent a seething glare in her fellow transgenic's direction—"let it slip to Joshua that White was the one who killed Annie.  And now he's gone after him."  She tossed Logan the note they'd found back at Joshua's place.

"What?"  Logan blinked.  He picked up the piece of paper and quickly read over it.  Then he turned to Alec.  "Why would you tell him that?"  His words lacked the accusation and irritation that Max had incorporated, but for whatever reason it seemed to bother Alec no less.

"It was an accident," he said emphatically, throwing up his shoulders.  "What can I say?  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Yeah well, just because you didn't _mean_ it, doesn't make it un-happen!" Max bit out, not willing to let it go so easily.  Oh sure, he _said_ he was sorry.  He always insisted he was.  But did that stop him from doing the next stupid thing that found its way onto his agenda?  Big, fat, indisputable—

"Max," Logan's quiet voice caught her attention.  She turned and found him watching her with concern and… suspicion?  "Right now isn't the time to dwell on handing out blame.  First we should find Joshua."

Staring at him blankly a moment before speaking, she then nodded.  Right, now wasn't the time.  Besides, if she wanted to uphold the image that she was involved with Alec, or had been involved with at any point, she should probably try to act a little more amicable.  If Logan began to doubt that, if he called her on her bluff… well, she didn't know what she would do.  She couldn't face that ordeal all over again.  "Yeah, you're right," she replied and turned back to Alec.  "I know you didn't mean to.  We should concentrate on Joshua."

He stared at her incredulously, as if unwilling to believe his ears.  "Uh… okay."  Max was grateful the idiot didn't decide to pursue it any further, such as questioning her sudden and generous change of heart right in front of Logan.  She had no desire to explain to him _that_ little situation to him.

"Right," Logan said, nodding once.  He turned to his computer.  "Well, I guess I can hack into the police records and see if there have been any recent sightings of a 'dog-man' in the last few hours."  He immediately began clicking away at the keyboard.  "You wouldn't happen to have any idea _where_ he'd be heading, would you?  Or maybe some sort of action plan he might have?"

Max sighed and sat down on a nearby chair, propping her chin into her hands as she stared intently at the wooden floor.  "I have no clue.  I mean, where would he even start?  It's not like White's crew has some known base or anything, like Manticore.  And every place we've found White in the past has been cleared out… his house, the school in Willoughby where we found Ray…"

"I've got something!" Logan interrupted and Alec leaned forward in his seat while Max stood and peered over Logan's shoulder at the computer screen.  She immediately noted the slight tensing of the muscles in his neck, and backed off a couple of steps, straightening up.

Crossing her arms over her chest and pretending nothing had happened, she inquired, "What is it?"

"Well, nothing one-hundred-percent," he said, his voice emotionless, almost mechanical, as his eyes skimmed the screen.  "A woman in Sector 2 reported seeing someone that fit the description of the 'creature' from last week's news story about an hour ago."  He paused, glancing away from the computer.  "It could be nothing.  According to this, there have been dozens of sightings every day since the whole… sewer chase thing.  Most are just general hysteria or people looking for some attention."

"But this was just an hour ago, right?" Alec said.  He stood and walked closer to the pair.  "It might be more than a coincidence."

"Yeah, and until we know what he's got planned, all we can do is follow every lead we find," Max agreed.  She looked at Alec.  "You have your cell?"

"Never go anywhere without it."

"Then, Logan, you can get a hold of us if anything else comes up."  He still wasn't looking at her, but he nodded.

"Sure."  He held over a small sheet of paper, a hastily scribbled address on it.  After a moment's hesitation and seeing that Max was making no move toward Logan, Alec grabbed it.

They started to head to the door, but then Alec paused and glanced between them both.  "Wait, just one thing," he said, a puzzled look on his face.  "How exactly is he getting past the sector checkpoints?"

"My guess is the sewer systems," Logan answered shortly.  "They can block the roads, but they can't block those.  They've been there since before the Pulse, and before they set up the checkpoints.  As long as you can stomach the smell, you can travel through them from one sector to the next."

Alec groaned.  "Oh no, please tell me there'll be no more trudging through the sewers?  I think I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime."

"Hey, if Joshua can go back in there after all that happened, so can you," Max informed him.  "Besides," she added, because _she_ wasn't looking forward to the experience any more than him, "we'll only go there if we have no other choice.  Now quit your bitchin' and let's go."

She turned to see Logan staring at them, that glint of suspicion back in his eyes.  Acting on instinct, she reached out and grabbed Alec's hand.  "C'mon."

Alec looked down at their linked fingers, back up at Max's face, and then over at Logan.  Whatever thoughts might have been going through his head, he managed to keep his face expressionless.  Finally, he nodded and let her lead him out of the apartment, and she had to fight to keep from sending one last glance in Logan's direction.  It was better if she didn't see his reaction, she told herself, better because she would only risk breaking her resolve.

**A/N (another one):  **Okay, I admit it.  I'm totally clueless about how the whole sector thing works.  Cuz sometimes they have such a hard time getting from one sector to the next, and the rest of the time they don't even mention it being a problem.  So, unless anyone wants to fill me in, let's just go with this.

And please review!  I'm not feelin' the love.  ::sniffles::


	4. The Great Debate

**Disclaimer:**  Mine, all mine!  The voices in my head told me so.

**A/N:**  Okay, I definitely felt the love last time, so I wanna thank everyone who reviewed.  Keep it up and so will I.  I'm glad the sector thing worked out alright.  It's confusing, isn't it?

**Friction**

**Chapter 4:  The Great Debate**

They didn't speak once they were back in the hallway, the apartment door safely closed behind them.  They didn't speak in the elevator ride down, just stood side by side, staring straight ahead, hands to themselves.  They didn't even speak on their way from the elevator to the front door as they passed through the lobby.

But the silence ended as soon as they walked outside and reached Max's bike.

"Okay, what was that?" Alec finally asked.  Oh, if he thought about it, he was pretty sure he'd figure it out.  But right now, he was trying to keep all thoughts out of his head.  Let _her_ explain it, in her own words.  Then he could sit back and shake his head with mock scorn, "Maxie, Maxie, Maxie, what have you done this time?"  She probably wouldn't like that.  Which was why he'd do it anyway.

He stood in front of her, blocking her path to the bike.  Max tried to brush past him, but he sidestepped, coming up in front once more.  Her enhanced speed wouldn't be a help to her now, since he could anticipate and react just as quickly.

"Alec—" she began, irritation flashing in her dark eyes.  Well, let her get irritated.  She was going to keep finding some reason or another to get angry at him, the whole blaming the fellow X5 thing—he might as well make the most of it.

"No, no, no, this is not one of those things you can pass of with a 'not now Alec.'  I think I deserve an answer—an explanation."  He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest resolutely.  "Either way, we're not going anywhere until you fill me in."

The look that flashed through her eyes read 'I want you to die—painfully,' but after a brief battle of wills, she seemed to give up on the fight.  Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly and she glanced away, not meeting his gaze as she spoke.  "You remember that night you spent at my place after I broke you out of jail?"

He nodded slowly, but since she wasn't looking at him, the gesture was futile.  "Yeah," he said, his mind replaying the events of that day.

"Well, the next morning, when you were leaving, Logan saw us together"—Alec stilled, his body growing utterly rigid, and he was suddenly very glad she _wasn't_ looking at him, or else she would have noticed—"And when I went over to his place that night with the necklace Joshua got from Sandeman, he asked me… he asked me if there was something going on between us."  She looked up at him then, face expressionless but for the spark of pain in those dark eyes.  "You and me."

His eyebrows lifted as he stared back at her, connecting the proverbial dots in his head.  "And you said yes?"  Well, _that_ would explain the hostility—correction, the more than _usual _hostility—he'd sensed coming off of Logan lately.  Though strangely, not nearly as much as he would have expected.  If Alec had been in Logan's place, and the situation reversed, he would have wanted him dead.  Or suitably maimed and disfigured, and in an adequate amount of pain to boot.

"No, not exactly," Max replied, interrupting his ruminations.  "But I didn't deny it either."  She shrugged.  "And he assumed the worst."  Glancing away again, she didn't take note of the wince he couldn't act fast enough to hide.

No, she hadn't meant it the way it sounded—she hadn't meant that _he_ was the 'worst.'  Just the assumption Logan had made, that Max had cheated on him.  At least, that had been the _intention_.  But strangely, that didn't make him feel any better.

"So, what?" he recovered quickly, pulling off his how's-this-going-to-affect-me shrug.  "Now we have to pretend that you and me are a thing?"

She looked up at him sharply, eyes narrowed.  "No, I wouldn't want to put you out or anything," she said sarcastically.  No doubt, she was thinking about all the times she'd gone out of her way to save his ass.  And those were a lot of times, weren't they, he thought ruefully.  "Just don't say anything to contradict it, alright?  Just not in front of Logan.  I think you owe me that much."  Her shoulders straightened once more, and this time she succeeded in brushing past him because he made no attempt to stop her.  Getting on the bike, she added quietly, "It's better this way."

"For who?" he replied in an equally low voice, thoughtful as he watched her.  The way that muscle in her cheek twitched, they way she kept her eyes down like she couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze.

"For everyone."

But that wasn't true.  It couldn't be better for Logan, to be led to believe something like that and hearing the words from the person you cared about most in the world.  And looking at her, he knew it certainly wasn't better for Max.  And Alec—he wasn't sure what he was feeling.  Except that it wasn't better.

*************

"So what's the address?" Max asked a few minutes after they'd passed into Sector 2, moving beyond the outer limits into the more heavily populated areas.  She slowed the bike, awaiting directions.  "Alec?"

"I'm working on it," he muttered in response, holding up the piece of paper and examining the words as if they were hieroglyphs, and he Indiana Jones searching for clues to the location of the buried treasure of Pharaoh Humphafalefatut.  Or something like that.  They didn't really push ancient Egyptian studies back at Manticore.  "Deciphering Logan's chicken scratch is like trying to find that four-eyed dork with the stupid sweater in those pictures."

"Waldo."

"Huh?" he replied, brow furrowing as he glanced up at her.

"You're talking about 'Where's Waldo,'" Max answered, eyes still trained on the road.

"Yeah, sure, I guess.  We're not on a first-name basis or anything."  His gaze returned to the address.  He glared angrily at the so-called letters, willing them to rearrange themselves until they were legible and articulate.  Maybe this was Logan's twisted little idea of revenge, of getting back at him for supposedly hooking up with Max.  Yes, he could see it now: Logan sitting in front of his computer, drinking his pre-Pulse wine, eating his elaborate Italian, homemade dinner, and hatching his "brilliant little scheme," to plot the downfall of X5-494's sanity.  "What does he think he is?  A doctor?" he mumbled.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Max replied touchily.

Already agitated, Alec snapped, "Oh for crying out loud, Max, you don't have to defend the guy's _writing._  I'm sure he can still be a decent human being despite the fact that it looks like he dipped a spider in ink and let it crawl across the paper."  He was greeted with an ungraceful snort, but no other reply, which he supposed was the closest Max would ever come to admitting he was right.  He turned the sheet upside down.  "Maybe it's in Arabic or something."

He heard a sigh from the front of the bike.  "Logan doesn't know Arabic."

"Well, then someone should tell him to stop writing in it."  Only vaguely was he was aware of the bike slowing to a complete stop, and the fact that they had pulled off to the side of the road.  "Glendale!" he declared suddenly, with triumph.  "I think."

"Let me see that."  Max turned to take the piece of paper, her hair brushing up against his nose.  She didn't seem to notice.  "What are you talking about?" she said incredulously after a while.  "That says Bluehill."

"Bluehill?" he returned, taking back the paper.  "Get your eyes checked, Maxie.  It's definitely Glendale."

"'Definitely Glendale'?  A minute ago it was 'I think' Glendale.  What happened to change your mind?" she said, turning in the seat to glare at him.

"Well, at first it was 'I think,' but the more I look at it, the more obvious it becomes… it's _definitely_ Glendale," he finished confidently.  "Besides, where the hell's 'Bluehill'?"

"Where the hell's 'Glendale'?" she returned.

They stared at each, neither answering the other's question, neither backing down.  After a few long, very long, seconds of silence, they both seemed to realize just how uncomfortably little space Max's ninja's seat afforded between them.  They broke the gaze at the same time.

Finally, Alec let out a laugh to break the sudden tension.  "You know, considering what we do for a living and all, you'd think we'd know this."

"Not our fault," Max insisted.  "People from Bluehill"—Alec looked at her and she rolled her eyes—"or _Glendale_, should use more messenger services."

"Definitely," he agreed.  Climbing off the bike, all the while telling himself it was just to stretch his legs, he said, "Okay, I guess we could call Logan and ask him."  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and extended it toward Max.

"You do it," she said quickly, almost shrinking away from the little metal device.

"_Me_?"  Alec shook his head.  "No way.  He hates my guts right now"—okay, slight exaggeration, but he was trying to make a point—"thanks to a certain somebody creating some false impressions.  Besides," he added, giving her a stern look, "you can't keep avoiding him forever.  Getting his help was _your_ idea, after all."  He wagged the phone at her, but when she gave him a slight, unconscious pout, his resolve almost shattered right there.  Those lips should be considered lethal weapons, he thought to himself.  They had the potential to destroy men where they stood.

"That's not why," she denied.  "I just don't want to look like the idiot, calling him up because I couldn't read the address he wrote down."

"Oh, and it's okay if _I_ look like the idiot?"

"Alec, you _are_ the idiot."  If it weren't for the good-natured grin on her face as she spoke, he might have been offended.  "And you should really be used to it by now, so I don't see what you're complaining about."  Okay, he was still slightly offended.

He scowled.  "Gee, thanks."  But he pulled back his phone and dialed the number anyway.  "Hey, Logan!" he said with false cheerfulness, trying to draw on the blissful ignorance he'd enjoyed just earlier today.  Turning his back, he walked away from Max as he spoke.  "Just a quick question buddy…"

When he'd clicked the phone off and returned it to his pocket, he joined Max, who waited with one eyebrow raised.  "Well?"

"Hedgemont."

"What?" she replied incredulously.  "_No way_ is that 'Hedgemont'!"

Alec nodded.  "That's what I said."  Yep, definitely some twisted little vengeance scheme.

TBC


	5. They always land on their feet

**A/N:**  Not as much humor this time around… it was kinda hard to work it with the action.

**Friction**

**Chapter 5:  They always land on their feet**

"Here we are."  Max brought the bike to a stop across from the little twenty-four hour corner store from which the call had been placed.  No one was around now except for the usual crowd on a Friday night—a trio of guys in scruffy clothes, one of them leaning up against the wall of the building, the other two standing on the curb.  They gave a passing glance at the pair then returned to their beers.

No sector police, no frantic witnesses.

"Probably not much to find, but let's check it out anyway," she said as she surveyed the quiet street.

The shrill tone of Alec's cell phone broke in before they could move.  A quick bit of movement behind her then, "Yeah."  A brief pause.  "You're shittin' me…  But we _just_ got here," he whined, "and now you're telling me we have to _go_…"

Max turned and snatched the phone out of his hand, ignoring the indignant expression on his face.  "That was very rude, and uncalled for.  If you wanted it, all you had to do was—"

"Hey," she cut in without preamble, silencing Alec with the glare she sent over her shoulder.

"Uh, hey," Logan's voice came over the phone, a little off-balance, but he recovered quickly.  "Two more calls came, just within the last ten minutes, both of them.  They were placed only a block apart—looks like we've got a direction to go in, at least."

"The addresses?" she asked.  He gave them to her, and she quickly committed them both to memory.  "Thanks, Logan."

His voice stopped her from hanging up.  "Wait, Max.  Looks like sector police's really jumping on this one… people recognized him from the pictures they were showing on the news last week."  He paused.  "Be careful."

"We will," she said softly, almost awkwardly.  "Later."  She snapped the phone shut and held it up without turning around.  Alec took it from her, and she could almost see the sullen expression on his face—the one he got whenever he wanted to make some snappy remark but knew that doing so would probably earn him more trouble than it was worth.

"Two more sightings," she told him, reiterating Logan's words.  "Sector police are already all over it, so we're gonna have to watch our backs."

An inarticulate noise was his only reply.  She shook her head once before turning the bike back on and taking off down the street.

*****

"Sector police," Max veered onto a side street as she spotted the roadblock up ahead, stopping out of view before the pair could be sighted.

Alec climbed off the bike first, leaving her to follow.  "The place is crawling with them," he observed as he peered around the edge of the building.

Max stashed her ninja behind a dumpster, tossing a couple of flattened cardboard boxes over it.  Hopefully, that would be enough for it to remain undetected until they returned.

The nearby shops were all closed up for the day, the street dark but for the occasional unbroken street lamp that cast its glow downward.  The pair slinked along the street, moving from the shadows of one building to the next, each watching out for the half dozen or so uniformed men that patrolled the area.

"What's the battle plan?" Alec inquired, dropping behind a parked car.  Parked or abandoned—it was a hard call to make, judging from the condition of the pile of metal.

Max frowned, assessing the situation.  "The calls were fresh, really fresh.  With all the cops around here… I don't see how he could've gotten very far.  Joshua must be nearby, somewhere."  Though the thought wasn't entirely comforting.

"If that's true, they'll be onto him soon enough.  I'm counting six out here alone.  Who knows how many more are checking out all these buildings and nearby areas."  Alec crouched low and moved to one end of the car, edging over just enough to catch a glimpse of the scene.

She honed in on two officers standing close by, hoping to get some clue from either as to where to look.  One man, fairly young looking and wide-eyed, spoke, "When the news stations find out this is the same thing from last week, they're going to be all over the story."

"We'll catch it for sure this time," the other one replied confidently.  "Damned thing thinks it can just go around killing defenseless blind girls and get away with it"—he patted his gun, causing Max to grimace—"it has another thing coming to it."

"Over there," she whispered suddenly as something caught her attention.

"What?"

She inclined her head toward an abandoned building across the intersection.  Just two stories high, but old and worn, the type of place that should have long been torn down, if the city still had money for such things.  "Lights… flashlights."

He nodded.  "Quite a few of them too.  Pretty heavy on the activity," he remarked.  Cocking his head, he turned toward her with his trademark smile.  "Shall we?"

Grinning slightly, she returned, "We shall."

Watching until they spotted an opening between two sets of patrols, both stood on a silent count of three.  Moving so fast that they were only blurs that went undetected by the oblivious guards, the pair ran across the street.  They sank into the dark doorframe of one store then waited for the next opportunity before closing the distance remaining between them and the site.  Easily, they leapt over a wire fence, a sign hanging on it, marked with the word 'CAUTION' and underneath it, 'CONDEMNED'.  They landed quietly and moved quickly into the darkened building.

They went in through a broken window, because the front entrance was too visible to the rest of the street and the remaining patrols.  Max entered first, glancing about to make sure the coast was clear before moving out into the lobby.  It looked like it had been some sort of office building, whenever it was last in use—which probably hadn't been anytime in the past two decades.  The linoleum floors were ripped apart, the walls were cracked and decaying, and any furniture left behind had obviously not been worth the trouble of lugging along when the previous occupants vacated the place.

She heard a soft thud as Alec's feet hit the floor behind her.  He followed silently, both heads surveying their surroundings constantly, their eyes perfectly adjusted to the darkness around them, no need for the telltale flashlights the others were carrying around.

Max felt a hand come to rest lightly on her arm and she turned toward Alec.  He pointed upward, quickly conveying with hand signals that he'd heard something on the next floor.  Nodding once, she let him lead them up the stairwell.  She winced as a stair creaked beneath her foot, its aged wood sagging under the weight.  Alec shot her a backward glance over his shoulder and she greeted him with a glare.  Hey, that was _not_ her fault!  He rolled his eyes, as if in response to her thought.

At the top, he paused briefly, peering down both ends of the hallway to make sure it was clear.  Slowly, with light steps, he crept around the corner, following the sounds of nearby voices, muffled through the separating walls.

"Over here," someone said, voice quite clear now.  "I'm sure it went this way."  He was coming toward them.

Max looked at Alec the same time he glanced at her, and by consensus, they both dove through the nearest doorway.  They landed noiselessly, but for the slight _whoosh of air from Alec's lips as her elbow caught him in the chest._

She mouthed a silent 'sorry' knowing he'd be able to see it.

It was a suite of some sort they'd ended up in, with a large main lobby and three smaller rooms branching off.  There was a gaping hole where the wall separating one of the rooms from the larger area should have been.  They ducked inside the middle room, one of those _with a wall._

The floor creaked, _again.  Shit._

In the hallway, the steps ceased just outside their door.  They waited.

"What, in there?" a doubtful voice inquired.

"I thought I heard something."

Max and Alec glared at each other pointedly.  'You did it!'

She held her breath and felt him do the same.  Heavy boots thudded cautiously against the floor and two beams of light swept across the main room beyond them.  One hit the wall across from them through their open doorway, and Max bit her lip.

Long, long seconds passed, before finally they heard, "You must've imagined it.  C'mon, let's keep moving."  The footsteps receded, and they resumed breathing.  They waited a little while longer, just to be sure, and then quietly left the room, back to the hallway.

Returning to their previous search, they continued stalking the corridors, looking for any sign that they were on the right track.  After a while, Max was seriously beginning to doubt the fact, and she turned to Alec to suggest that they move on.  Just because the sector police were dim-witted enough to hang around the same place for god knows how long, when the object of their search was long gone, didn't mean _they had to be too._

A single excited cry changed her mind, "I saw it!"  Gunshots followed, and she took off at a sprint without thought.

"Max!" Alec hissed close behind her, but she didn't slow down.  All she could think was how she would never forgive herself—would never forgive either of them—if something had happened to Joshua.

"This way!"  She followed the voices and the pounding of feet on floor like beacons.  She was almost on top of them now, any second she should burst around the corner to see them, guns lined up, ready to shoot down her friend—

Suddenly, she was tackled through a doorway, thrown off-balance by the unexpected weight flying toward her.  Alec pinned her to a wall and bit out before she could speak, "What do you think you're doing?  You run in there like that and you'll get yourself killed, as well as Joshua," he hissed.  He pulled away, taking a half step back.  "We don't exactly have much room to maneuver in here—we need to draw them out of the building.  But we can't do that by just bursting in on them and getting ourselves shot up."

Max glared at him, knowing he was right and a little extra annoyed by that fact alone.  She was about to reply when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention.  Turning her head, she glanced out the glassless window just a foot off to her left, and her eyes widened as she whispered harshly, "Joshua!"

There was no mistaking the hulking figure as it leapt from the second floor of the building, to the pavement below.

What was he doing?  He didn't have any feline DNA in him!

He was going to break something and then they would shoot him down before he ever got a chance to get out of the way.

"_Dogs don't always land on their feet!"_

She watched, eyes wide in horror, and then she heard Alec's response, "Well, looks like no one ever told _him that."  There was a mixture of emotions in his voice—amusement, awe, relief, and respect._

Somehow he had pulled it off.  Not a second after the large form hit the ground with legs bent to shield the impact, it bound back up.  Immediately, he ducked out of the line of sight of the sector police still watching from two stories up, guns attempting to lock on him.

Max hadn't realized that her hands were resting on Alec's upper arms, or that her fingers were biting—hard—into his flesh, until she felt relief wash over her and she noted the slightly pained expression on his face.  Releasing him, she pulled away.

"That idiot!" she muttered.  "I am going to kill him!"

"Yeah, well before you start tossing out the death threats, maybe we should make sure no one gets the job done before you," Alec cut in.  He nodded downward.  "Looks like the ground crew's already on him."

She followed his gaze and saw the several uniformed figures still outside take off after Joshua's retreating shape.  Shots were being fired, again.  Footsteps pounded down the hallway, heading toward the stairwell.  After they'd passed their room, she pulled Alec toward the doorway, "C'mon!"  But instead of turning right and following them down the stairs, she took a left.

As she led them into the room from which Joshua had jumped, Alec spoke up behind her, "What are you doing?"

She shot him a grin over her shoulder, "Taking the expressway."  And then she jumped.  The instant her feet hit the ground, she was off, the drop not even slowing her, running in the direction they'd seen Joshua disappear.  A rhythmic pounding behind her indicated that Alec was right behind her.

"This way!" a voice shouted.

"I saw it turn in here!"

They were getting very close, and despite her instinct to keep going, to find her friend as soon as possible, before he got himself hurt, she slowed to a stop.  She leaned against a concrete wall, and peaked around at their surroundings.  They were outside what was once an underground parking area adjoining the vacated building they had just left behind.

"He couldn't have picked someplace that _wasn't falling apart," Alec muttered beside her.  Max could understand his concern.  There were cracks in the huge cement support beams, and even areas where the ceiling, which served as a floor to the top layer, had caved in.  "I'm not getting a good feeling about this."_

"We don't really have a choice," she returned, slipping into the daunting structure.

"No, _I don't have a choice—I just follow you because it's not as if you're going to listen to anything I say anyway.  __You have plenty of choices.  Turn left, turn right, bite off Alec's head for breathing too loud—"_

"Alec, shut up!"

There was a muttered reply behind her, one she wouldn't have heard if it weren't for her enhanced hearing, "And you've decided to go with option three."

TBC 

I stopped there because I have to switch to Alec's point of view now.  You might've already noticed (or maybe not) that the chapters switch from Max's POV, to Alec's.  So, True Blue Healer (cuz you asked), that means we won't really know how Logan feels about Alec unless it's through something he says/does.

And reviews are ever so inspiring!


	6. Lessons from the Boob Tube

**A/N:**  Yeah, it's short.  But since I got it out so soon after the last one, I think that should count for something.

**Friction**

**Chapter 6:  Lessons from the Boob Tube**

In the abandoned parking garage, Alec was aware of many things.  For instance, that dark shape in front of him, hunched over and slinking along the length of the cement wall, was Max.  The sound of heavy boots hitting broken pavement and gravel was the sector police scouring the area for Joshua.  That sharp sensation of something digging into the very center of his left foot was a rock that had somehow managed to make its way into his shoe.

Right now, that rock had the greatest proportion of his attention.  He was tempted to stop to remove it, but that would possibly cause Max to yell at him.

Hey, wait a minute… since when was he afraid of something as little as Max yelling at him?

He sighed.

Since that fated day he'd decided to stay in Seattle, and even gone so far as to secure employment at the very same messenger service where she worked.  And thus he had ensured himself—either intentionally or unintentionally—a place in her life.  Oh, it didn't always stop him from doing whatever it was that was sure to piss her off.  But, sometimes it did.  Like right now.

He could try to explain the situation to her, but she'd probably just tell him to suck it up, shake it away, walk it off—try to live up to his X5 heritage.  Hmm, she'd make a great gym coach.

"Whatever you do, try not to get sighted," she instructed as they continued walking.  "This will be a lot easier if they don't know that Joshua's getting help.  So try to take them from behind and knock them out."

"Right," Alec nodded.  "Like the Vulcan death grip or something."

Max glanced at him over her shoulder, a strange expression on her face.  "You watch too much T.V."

He attempted to inconspicuously dislodge the stone, perhaps send it to the front of his shoe so he wouldn't have to place his weight on it with each step.  "Don't get all high-and-mighty with me," he returned.  "I know you've spent many an hour in front of the ol' boob tube yourself since you got out of Manticore."

"You do, do you?"  There was a hint of amusement in her voice, and he could almost imagine her smiling as she spoke.

Max, smiling?  Nah.

"Yeah, how else would you have known what I was talking about?" he grinned smugly, even though she wasn't looking and no one could see the expression.  Force of habit.

They quieted as they spotted a pair of uniformed figures up ahead, sweeping the area with two beams of light.  Max signaled to him that she'd take the further of the two, leaving the closer one to him.

He waited until she was positioned behind hers before he acted.  Slipping behind the man, he wrapped one arm around his neck, cutting off his airway.  At the same instant, Max leapt out and kicked hers from behind, sending him forward into a cement wall.  Even with his helmet, the force was enough to knock the man unconscious immediately.  Meanwhile, Alec's guy struggled vainly against his attacked until he passed out from a lack of oxygen.  Releasing him, Alec stepped behind to watch the figure slip bonelessly to the ground.

"Live long and prosper, muthafucka," he said as he grabbed the man's gun and deliberately jammed the clip.  It wasn't beyond repair, but it would require more skill than the average sector cop possessed to fix it.  Hey, just because he wasn't going to use it—due to this whole 'kill only when absolutely necessary' shit he had adopted thanks to Max—didn't mean he needed to leave it for someone else.  One less weapon in the hands of someone trying to turn him into Swiss cheese was a _good_ thing.

"Alright Mr. Spock," he heard Max drawl, "come along now."

He turned toward her, a grin adorning his face as he crowed triumphantly, "Ha!  I knew it."  She laughed slightly, and a puzzled frown replaced it.  "Must be a full moon."

"Huh?"  Max looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"First, with the smiling, and now you're laughing," he explained.  "And you're managing all that in the middle of"—he waved his hand expansively—"this.  That's not the Max I know and remember.  So I'm guessing there's a full moon.  Full moon makes people do crazy things—or so I've heard."

She glanced away, already walking again.  "I smile and laugh."

"Yeah, sure you do," he replied.  Then he shrugged, "Just not usually in the _with_ me sort of way."

There was an awkward silence then, and suddenly Alec regretted saying anything.  He shouldn't have pushed his luck, just accepted the momentary light heartedness and moved on.  But no, he had to go say something _serious_.  Then again, his sense of humor rarely seemed to please Max either.  So, basically, so long as he opened his mouth he was screwed.

"You shouldn't knock it, really," he said suddenly, breaking the quiet.  There he went again—it was a freakin' compulsion!  To her questioning glance, he explained, "Television.  It can be very educational."

She scoffed.  "Yeah right."

"No, really," he insisted.  "I still remember the first 'adult film' I ever saw.  Sure, that was _cable T.V., but close enough—you know what I'm saying.  Anyway, it was back in the post-Manticore-burning-down days, and I was out on this mission—"_

"Alec!" she cut in harshly.  "I _don't need to hear this."_

"It's not like that.  It was purely informational."  She gave him a look.  "Okay, _almost purely informational," he amended.  "But can you blame me?  I mean, Manticore's sex ed lessons left a lot to be desired.  Yeah, sure they gave you the basic mechanics of it… but they never really explained anything beyond that.  What goes where and what are the results—but what about __why."  He was rambling now.  Wasn't this where she was supposed to say, "Yeah, I totally get what you're saying" and they'd have their requisite moment of bonding?  And then maybe later, a toast to Manticore alumni's everywhere._

Finally, after Max's prolonged silence, he inquired in a skeptical voice, "What, you don't think so?  Did your group get some sort of special lesson plan or something?"

"Not exactly," she answered in that tone he'd grown quite familiar with over the past months.  It was the I-don't-want-to-answer-that-question-but-I-know-I'm-going-to-have-to-but-I'm-still-going-to-stall-as-long-as-possible tone.

Yep, it was a very expressive one.

"Not exactly?" he echoed.  "Then what—exactly?"  He watched her, trying to catch her expression, but she kept her eyes directed forward, and all he could see was the back of her head.

She hesitated.  Then without turning, replied, "We didn't get one."

He had to consciously remember to keep his voice down.  "What?"

She said, defensively, as she finally spared him a glance, "Look, I was nine when we broke out, and the others weren't much older.  We left before we got to that part."

Baffled, Alec continued to stare at her, glancing away occasionally to check his footing.  "Then how _did you learn about it?"  Even if Manticore's lessons were a bit limited, they were a start.  Besides, then there was that __other little issue.  "And how'd you learn about the whole heat-pheromones-period-of-uncontrollable-sexual-urges thing?"_

When she didn't speak, he thought she'd simply chosen not to answer—and maybe that was also partly true—but then she turned to him, one finger pressed to her lips, and indicated forward with a gesture.

Someone was coming toward them.  Correction, _two someone's were coming toward them._

Alec took his position behind a pillar, but couldn't make out where Max had taken off to.  She was behind him, somewhere, he knew that for sure—so that meant the first guy was his.  Just as the first cop walked by, he heard a thud from behind, and a sharp cry.  But before his guy could even turn to investigate what had become of his partner, Alec shot out one first, catching him square in the jaw.  The single blow was enough to knock him out cold.

He resisted the urge to wipe his hands in the typical, cocky, job-well-done gesture, then gave in and did it anyway.  Originality was overrated.

Turning toward Max, he saw first the second sector cop lying crumpled on the ground, not far from his partner, then his fellow X5 swinging down from a concrete beam.  Ah, the hanging from the ceiling move; it seemed to be a real favorite of hers.  Who knows, maybe the girl had a bit of spider DNA in her blend as well—it was probably her great-great-great-grandpa who scared the bejesus out of little Miss Muffet.

A little something from each phylum of the animal kingdom makes a nice well rounded transgenic.

The humor faded quickly from his thoughts as he watched her fall lightly to her feet, oblivious to what her little extra weight had done to the already weakened beam above her.  The ceiling shifted as its support gave.

"Max!" he cried, leaping toward her.

He wasn't going to make it, not even with his feline reflexes, he wasn't going to make it, he thought frantically.

Then his body was colliding into hers, sending her much smaller form flying backwards.  He caught her shocked expression before his own momentum carried him to the ground, almost to the very spot from which he'd pushed her.  _Shit!  If she was over there, and he was right here, that meant—_

There was a sharp, blinding pain in the back of his head, and everything went black.

TBC


	7. Damsel in Distress

**A/N:**  Oh, so concerned for Alec… but I can understand why.

**Friction**

**Chapter 7:  Damsel in Distress**

"Alec!" Max screamed frantically.  She saw him go down, disappear under a pile of rubble after pushing her out of the way, and for a moment it felt like her heart had simply stopped beating.

But it was a very brief moment, not lasting even a second, and then she was scrambling forward, pushing blocks of cement out of the way.  Piece after piece, she tossed aside, all the while praying to a god she didn't believe in that he was still alive—that he'd be alright.

She wanted to call out to him, to try to get a response, but she knew that she couldn't afford to take the chance.  Someone must have heard the commotion—there was no doubt about that—but that didn't mean she needed to provide the sector police with a beacon to hone in on.  Hopefully, they wouldn't be discovered before she had a chance to dig him out.

She could see a hand, and an arm, and now a leg.  Max breathed a little easier when she saw how the ceiling had fallen, two large pieces actually tenting Alec's body and keeping the other debris from hitting him directly.  But when she reached his head, her earlier anxiety returned in full force.  Blood matted his hair, at the back, where he had taken a blow from a particularly sharp piece.

"Alec!" she whispered, not really expecting a response.  He lay still, and more quiet than she'd ever known him to be.  Strange, she'd always expecting this moment would bring with it relief and a certain sense of peace—when Alec finally shut his trap and discovered the phenomenon of silence—but now the one thing she wanted most was for him to simply open his eyes, his mouth, and make one of his characteristically irritating remarks.

When she'd cleared enough space, she pulled him from the rubble, being careful not to disturb the large blocks that would crush him if they fell.  A hand placed under each arm, his back against her stomach, she grabbed him and yanked him out.  Glancing toward the still-unconscious sector cops who'd managed to remain unscathed in the little incident—well, unscathed but for the injuries that the two transgenics had inflicted—she didn't stop even once she had him out in the clearing.  If they were found here, how would she possibly explain their presence?

Max dragged Alec to the edge of the parking garage and out.  It would have been easier if she just carried him, but she couldn't be sure he hadn't been hit anywhere besides his head, and she wanted to keep him as still as possible unless it was absolutely necessary to move him.

"C'mon Alec," she said softly as she pulled him.  "Help me out here.  How the hell am I supposed to get you over that fence?"

That was their best chance, she figured, getting out of the lot of the abandoned building so, at least, they wouldn't be automatically shot on sight.  She had to get Alec to safety first then she could come back for Joshua.  Leave Alec here and go after Joshua, and she would be endangering them both.

They'd reached the perimeter, and as she glanced about to ensure there was no one in sight, she spied a corner of the fence that had been torn from the ground and pushed aside.  No doubt, Joshua hadn't been the first to venture onto the site after it had been declared condemned, and she secretly thanked whoever had been here before him.  At least that was one problem down.

Holding up the corner of the mesh fence with one hand, then her leg, she managed to pull Alec through.  But while she was ensuring the loose bits of wire didn't catch him along the way, she managed to riddle her own hands and arms with numerous cuts.  Then there was a tearing noise as one bit ripped through her shirt.

Max froze and glared down at Alec.  "You are so buying me a new shirt."  It wasn't a big tear.  It's not like it left a big gaping hole or anything—which was a good thing, considering she'd chosen not to wear a bra today and she wasn't looking forward to providing the sector police or anyone else with an eyeful, unless of course it was a means of saving her life—but still, _any_ hole was one hole too many.

"Who knew you could be a bigger pain unconscious than you are awake?" she grumbled as she made the final stretch.  "And that's quite the accomplishment, considering just _how_ big a pain you are when you're awake."Oh, she wasn't _really_ angry with him.  It was just that when it came to Alec, anger was so much easier to deal with than concern.  It was a sort of comfort to bitch at him, even if he couldn't hear it.

After she'd dragged him out onto the sidewalk, she paused for breath and to check up on him.  His breathing was fairly deep and steady, and she frowned as she noted that.

"Hey," she said, peering down at him suspiciously.  "Are you out cold, or sleeping?"

In response, he let out a strange noise… that sounded… very much… like… a… _snore_?!

"I don't believe this!" she exclaimed, in shock.  "You… you… ah!"  Reaching for his collar, she pulled his head up slightly and slapped him.  Lightly, of course, barely a tap at all—alternating from one cheek to the other.

Alec made a whimpering noise of protest, and tried to turn his head away from her.

"Oh no you don't!"  Max grabbed his face and jerked it back.  "Wake up, you idiot!"  His eyes began to flutter open, slowly, and seeing that he truly was all right, she felt all her earlier anxiety, fear, and flurry of unnamable emotions dissolve into one giant puddle of exasperation.  "I can't believe you were just sleeping!  That whole time… and what is it with you and sleep?  Haven't you already gotten enough of it today?"  Pulling away, she ran a hand over her face.  "And to think that I was actually…"  She finished the sentence with an inarticulate noise to convey her frustration.

"You were actually what?"  Green eyes, wide open and very aware, peered up at her as she lowered her hand.

She ignored his question.  "I can't believe you're alright!  You made me drag you all the way down here, and under that fence.  I ripped my shirt!"  He glanced down at said shirt, and she exclaimed, "Don't _look_!  Why the hell are you looking?  Argh!!  I am so going to—to—"

"Kick my ass?"  He flashed a grin as he finished for her.

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of strangle you until you turn blue."

His eyes fluttered shut momentarily and a grimace passed over his features.  "Well, before you do either of those, let me assure you that I am _not_ alright.  I feel like I went toe-to-toe with a Mack truck"—he groaned slightly—"and the truck won."  Then his eyes reopened and settled on hers.  "Well, at least it didn't kick me in the balls."

Max sat back and gave him a disgusted look as she watched him struggle to sit up.  "Oh, will you get—"  Alec winced and fell back, and she caught him, just barely in time.  "Careful," she said softly, all anger dissipating immediately, "Just give it a few minutes."

As he looked up at her, surprise was clearly etched on his features.  He opened his mouth to speak—

"Hold it right there!"

They both froze in place.  A flashlight shone across Max's back, but she was blocking Alec's face from view.  In a quiet voice, so low, only he could hear, she told him, "Close your eyes and just go along with whatever I say."  He nodded once, ever so slightly.

Max turned abruptly toward the source of the light, two sector cops a few meters behind her, both with their weapons drawn and aimed.  Eyes widening, she said in a breathy voice, "Oh thank god you found us officers!  We were attacked!"  She edged back slightly, giving them a clear view of Alec's bloody head, his closed eyes.  "This… creature… it just came out of nowhere and hurt my boyfriend"—_I'm sorry Joshua_, she thought silently, feeling guilt course through her at the lie, but knowing it was necessary—"I thought it was going to hurt me too… I'm so glad you're here!"  If the very thought of it didn't disgust her so much, she would have faked some tears.  As it was, it was hardly necessary.  Her little act won the men over.

They approached slowly, and cautiously, though not nearly as cautiously as they should have.  Damsel in distress gets them every time.  Not that she was complaining or anything.

One man lowered his weapon and crouched down, checking for Alec's pulse.  Hey, Junior!  She recognized him from her earlier survey of the building.  Which must mean that that, over there, must be Rambo.  "It's pretty strong," Junior informed them both.  Looking toward Max, he said, "Don't worry ma'am, he'll be fine."

_Ma'am?_  Jeez, how old was this kid?

"Oh thank you!" she gushed, flashing him a brilliant smile that caused him to duck his head shyly.

They were interrupted by Rambo, who had wandered away from the trio to investigate something in the shadows.  "Hey, I think I heard something!"

Junior glanced up and met eyes with his partner.  "You stay here," Rambo told him, "Watch over the civilians and call for backup.  I'm gonna go check it out."

Rambo disappeared into the darkness, and his partner pulled out his walkie-talkie.  Before he could call it in though, Max cut in—"Wait!"  When he looked toward her, she decked him.  "Sorry Junior," she muttered, picking up the little radio, "Can't let you do that."

Alec sat up.  "Junior?  What is this compulsion you have to name everyone you meet?"  Max said nothing.  Pulling himself, a little unsteadily, to his feet, he continued, "Your boyfriend, huh?  First it's Logan, now the sector police… when are you gonna cut the act and just admit you want me?"

She turned to glare at him.  "The only thing stopping me from smacking you upside the head right now is the fact that it might reopen your cut."

"Aw, Maxie, you are too good to me."  He grinned, but it was a little lopsided, which just made it even more difficult for her to stay angry with him.  She scowled at the thought and trudged ahead.

"I've got it!" Rambo's sudden excited cry drifted back to their ears.  No gunshots sounded, so that was a good thing, Max told herself as she raced to find him.

Joshua lay on the ground, defenseless, the gun aimed directly at his chest.  "Check it out, Myers, I got him!" Rambo said again as he heard the footsteps behind him.

"Too bad you can't keep him," Max replied, kicking the gun from his hands.  One blow to the gut, and while he was still recuperating from that, another to the temple, and he was out even before he hit the ground.  "And he sounded so excited too," she said with mock sympathy.

"Hey, that one was supposed to be mine!" Alec complained from behind her.  "You got the last guy."

She rolled her eyes.  "Relax, you can get the next one."

That didn't seem to appease him much, as he grumbled something to the effect of, "Action hog."

"Joshua," she said, a large grin warming her features as she saw her friend, unhurt, gathering himself to his feet.  "I'm so glad you're alright, big fella."  She reached forward and gave him a hug, but he didn't return it.  Frowning, she pulled back.  He stared down at her unhappily, but she filed away the observation for later scrutiny as she grabbed his hand, trying to get him to follow.  "C'mon, we gotta get out of here."

"No Max," he said, refusing to budge.  He snatched his hand from hers.

"Joshua, what are you doing?" she demanded.

"Shit, backup's on its way," Alec remarked as he picked up the sounds of sector police approaching.  He looked at Max, "I'll try to hold 'em off—you take care of this."  He waved his hand vaguely, but she understood what he was trying to say without being too obvious.

"Max and Alec go home," Joshua told her.  "I can take care of myself.  I have to do this."

"Do what?" she asked angrily, glaring up at his hulking figure.  "Get yourself killed?"  She grabbed his hand again.  "We don't have time for this—_lets go_."

Again, he pulled away from her, and then placed his hands on her shoulders as he stooped over to face her eye-level.  "Listen, Max.  I'm not going home—not yet.  White killed Annie.  I can't forget; I can't pretend it didn't happen."

"But what can you do about it?" she returned.  "If it were really that easy to take him down, don't you think me and Alec would've done it by now?  We're not holding back for old times' sake!"

"Max, no.  I—"

But whatever he was going to say next was cut short, as voices cried out behind them, "There it is!"  Obviously, Alec had been unable to keep all of the sector cops at bay.  Before either Max or Joshua could react, however, shots fired out and a searing, burning pain in her leg drove Max forward, into Joshua's arms.

"Max!"  That wasn't Joshua's voice, but Alec's, as he arrived at the scene, too late to stop it.  Though her injury kept her from turning to observe the action, she heard the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, startled voices calling out.  Then Alec was at her side, concerned eyes peering down at her.  His fingers hastily probed the wound and she stifled a cry.

"We have to get out of here, now," he said.  "There are too many of them, and I can't hold them off."

"Alec take Max, leave," Joshua replied, propping her against him.  "I'll distract sector police, take them away in wrong direction."

"No!" Max interrupted.

"It's the only way," he insisted.  "Max hurt—sector police will catch up."  He put a hand on Alec's shoulder, "Protect Max, I'll distract them."  Then he was off, already on his way, ignoring all her protests.

"Joshua!  Get back here!"  But it was too late.  "Alec, stop him!" she shouted, trying to pull away from his support.  It was a futile gesture—her one leg was completely useless and she almost lost her balance as she did so.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but he's right, Max," he said as he put one arm across her back, and with other scooped up her legs, careful to keep the injured one on the outside.  "They'll catch up with us if we stick together.  Besides, we couldn't all fit on your bike anyway.  We're better off going separately."

"Hey, put me down!" she demanded indignantly.  "It's just a graze; I can walk."

He spared her a look before returning his attention to their getaway.  "Right.  You know, I'm beginning to wonder if you didn't get yourself shot up just so I would have to carry you.  I mean, all this talk about you and me being a thing, the way you drag me along on every little mission you go on… and now, this—you'd do just about anything to get a little closer to me, wouldn't you Maxie?"

"Oh, that's it.  Just leave me here for the sector police.  A few more bullets would be preferable to this."

TBC

Show me the love—review!!!

See, I'm so much less demanding than Cuba Gooding Jr.


	8. Candor

**A/N:**  I love you guys, and all the great reviews!  However, some issues have arisen, so let me address them:

Deb ~ He was hit in the head with a small, but sharp piece.  I was trying to imply that it looked worse at first than it really was… maybe I didn't do it clearly enough.  And sometimes people can take even a concussion and keep going for a while without any side effects… that's how my brother got through his rugby games in high school.

Shimemore ~ Hey, I drove by a llama farm the other day!  Supposedly people make clothing out of their fur?  I don't know, they look kinda shaggy'n'dirty… I'm not sure I'd be buying anything made of 100% genuine llama.

chaos280 ~ Aw, that's so sweet!  Glad to see I could make someone feel better.

Also, if anyone's curious as to how long this thing's gonna be, right now I have an outline of the story that puts it at approximately 19 chapters.  Even if I'm a little off, it should be pretty close in either direction.

**Friction**

**Chapter 8:  Candor**

When they reached her bike, Max refused to leave until she was sure Joshua had gotten away safely.

Alec thought it unwise to linger any longer in the vicinity, and said as much.

"What, are you nuts?  I'm gettin' my ass outta here before it gets all shot up!"

To which Max replied that despite the dangers, they had an obligation to their friend.

"Hey, this whole mess is _your_ fault.  If you'd just thought before you opened your hole, none of this would've happened."

And while Alec could not dispute the truth of this assertion, he felt he had a duty to warn his comrade against the possible consequences.

"Fine, but if you bleed to death while I'm gone, don't come cryin' to me."

Max, though appreciative or his concern, communicated that it was a risk she was prepared to take.

"If I bleed to death, I'll be _dead._  How the hell will I 'come cryin' to you?"

Though won over by her argument, Alec still had to impart one final caution before proceeding.

"I don't know, Max.  But knowing you, you'll somehow manage."

With that, Max wished him luck on his endeavor.

"Fuck off."

And Alec replied in kind.

"I hope you _do_ bleed to death."

And they parted.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Okay," he said, coming back up to the bike several minutes later.  "I checked it out—Joshua seems to have lost them for now.  So let's get going already, huh?"

He paused as he looked Max over.  She was leaning against the dingy wall of a nearby building, a slightly pained expression on her face, but she'd covered it quickly at his sudden reappearance.  Pulling away from the wall, she hobbled her way back to the bike.  Well, at least the bleeding appeared to have stopped.

"Alright," she said, apparently satisfied.

As Alec climbed onto the bike, she stopped him.  "What are you doing?"

He looked at her blankly, then down at himself.  "What?"

Max stared at him incredulously.  "You're sitting in the front."

His eyebrows shot up as her words sank in.  "You're kidding, right?" he replied, although something told him this was Max, and she could say something as ridiculous as this, so long as it related to her bike, and be completely, utterly serious.  "You've been shot in the leg and you expect to drive?"

"I told you, it's a—"

"It's a graze.  Yeah, I know," he cut in.  "But there's no way in hell I'm letting you drive like that.  Especially when we have one perfectly healthy transgenic on site."  He finished climbing onto the bike and looked back at her expectantly.

"Hey, you're in no better condition that I am.  At least I didn't take a blow to the head.  How's _that_ going to affect your driving skills?"  She leaned against the bike, shifting her weight to keep it off the injured leg.

Alec unconsciously reached for the back of his head, where blood had matted his hair together.  Yeah, he was going to need to take care of that.  "It's more of a cut than a bump.  Pretty superficial.  Besides," he continued, "don't tell me it would have made any difference even if I _hadn't_ been hit.  You still wouldn't want me to drive."

She confirmed his suspicions when she replied, "It's my baby!"

Alec rolled his eyes.  "Get on."  She surprised him by obeying shortly, and actually settling on behind him, although her lower lip jut out in testimony of her displeasure.  "Don't worry, I'll take real good care of your baby," he purred as he started the bike.  He grinned in amusement, but when he felt Max shiver against him, his smiled turned to a frown.  The blood loss must have taken a greater toll than he'd thought; they'd have to take care of that leg immediately.

Alec closed his hands tightly on the handles and ripped down the street.  Immediately, Max's arms came up around him.  "Slow down!" she shouted into his ear.  "You're gonna kill someone!"

He laughed slightly at the absurdity of it.  "Hey, now you know how I always feel," he threw back at her.

The grip about his ribcage tightened fractionally, her body pressing up against his as he purposely took a corner, sharp.  "Alec!"

A grin split his features and he was very glad she couldn't see it.  "What's the matter, Maxie?  Don't you trust me?" he called out into the wind.

He had a sneaking suspicion she was trying to suppress a scream.  And not just any scream, but one of those girly, high-pitched things that, if one ever escaped her lips, would probably cause Max to die of embarrassment.

"Of course I don't!" she replied, arms tightening once more.

Alec suppressed a groan.  While the thought of Max clinging firmly to one's body might appeal to any red-blooded man, the reality of it was very different.  If she kept up her pace, she'd be cracking ribs soon.

"Alec, if you don't slow down, you are a dead man!  I swear, I will kill you with my bare hands!"  Competing with the sensation of her crushing arms was that of every curve and plane of the front of her body smoothing into his back.  Pain and pleasure, he thought.  If he didn't stop this soon, he might just develop a fetish.

"You can't kill me until I stop this bike," he told her gleefully.  Ah, the sweet, honey taste of power.  One didn't often get an opportunity to have such a hold over Max—well, at least _Alec_ didn't—and it was about damn time the tables flipped for a turn.

Unfortunately, his little power trip came to a quick halt as he slowed when they reached their first destination.

"Why are we stopping here?" Max asked as they pulled up in the tiny parking lot.

Alec got off the bike and answered, "Picking up some first-aid supplies.  Stay here, guard the bike."  He gave a smirk and patted her head like an obedient child's, ignoring the heated glare she sent him.

"What's that?" she asked as he pulled something from his pocket.

"My, aren't we full of questions today?" he said as he held up the piece of red cloth for display.  "It's a bandanna."  Folding said bandana over, he tied it over his head—major fashion no-no though it was, what with _this_ outfit—he didn't want to have to explain the bloody patch on the back of his head when he walked into the store.  This late at night, with the sector police out and about, patrolling nearby areas, something like this might raise one's suspicions.

"Wait just a minute," Max said slowly.  "You had a bandanna this whole time, and you didn't say anything?  Don't you think it would have been a little helpful if I'd had something to cover up the hole in my leg with?"

"I thought you said it was a graze," he retorted.  Hmm, she didn't seem to like that, so he tried again.  "I didn't wanna get it all bloodied."

Her mouth gaped open slightly.  "And what they hell do you thinks going to happen when you tie it over your head?"

Alec shrugged.  "Now it's necessary."  It wasn't true, really—he just hadn't remembered he had it on him until now.  If he had realized earlier, he would have given it to her without thought.  But it was more fun this way, pretending he'd kept it from her on purpose, and since it wasn't going to change anything, what harm was there in letting her believe it?

It was a good thing she had this injury and she needed him alive and well to find Joshua, or else there might have been _some_ harm in letting her believe it—judging from the look she sent him.  Finishing with the bandanna, he quickly stepped away.

"Get me some gum."

"What?" Alec paused, halfway to the door, glancing at her over his shoulder.

"Gum," she repeated slowly.  "G-U-M."

His eyes narrowed.  "I know what gum is, but why?"

She shrugged casually.  "I just want some.  That alright with you?"  It didn't sound like she could care less either way.

"Oh, that's just peachy," he drawled with a roll of his eyes.  "What flavor?"

"Um," she contemplated, a thoughtful expression overcoming her face.

"Well?"  He tapped his foot impatiently.

"I'm thinking!"  She resumed her "um-ing".  "Cherry."

He turned to leave.

"No, strawberry."

"Alright," he nodded.

"No wait, mint.  Spearmint."  He paused, waiting for her to change her mind again.  Then she nodded once, in confirmation.  "Spearmint."

"Anything else I can get you?" he asked sarcastically.  "Some Twinkies, a magazine, maybe a box of tampons?"

She shook her head.  "Nope.  I'm good for another couple of weeks."

He wrinkled his nose at her reply.  "I did _not_ need to know that."

"Shouldn't have asked then."

When he came out of the drugstore two minutes later, he was surprised to find Max still seated in the back, not having overtaken the driver's seat as he'd been afraid she would.  But then he saw the unhappy expression on her face, and the way she turned away, arms crossed over her chest as he reappeared.  He suspected that she had tried, and then realized the futility of attempting to drive with her injured leg.

"Well, let's get going," she snapped the instant he reached the bike.

He thrust the small bag of purchases roughly into her arms.  "Oh, this is going to be a fun night."  He heard her rifling through the bag.

"Hey, you got _pepper_mint.  I said _spear_mint!"

"It was all they had."

"Hmm…  Did you _really_ look around?"

"Yes."

"Really, _really_?"

"Yes!"

"Did you ask the clerk?"

"Yes, I asked the clerk, I asked him to check in the back, and then I asked him to double-check just in case he'd missed it the first time.  But, unfortunately, they simply _do not_ carry spearmint!"

There was silence, as Alec practiced his deep-breathing exercises and Max absorbed his words.

"Well, you don't have to be so snippy about it," she sniffed.

TBC

**A/N:**  At this point you may be thinking, "M'kay.  So what was the point of that?"  Well, you see, it was kind of a transitional chapter.  Plus, you know how sometimes you're watching T.V. and you say, "Yeah, but in _real_ life"…?  Well, _I_ do.


	9. Downtime

**A/N:**  You know, when Max and Alec get into one of these verbal sparring things, they just _do not_ want to shut up!  And then I end up taking sooo long just to get to the part that I'm building to… and before you know it, here's this long-ass chapter.  Blame them, not me.

Anyway, as the chapter title says, this is just some downtime where things slow down a bit.  We'll return to the action soon enough.

**Friction**

**Chapter 9:  Downtime**

"A motel?  A _motel_?" Max said as they pulled up to the seedy looking building.

"That's what the sign says," Alec replied, turning off the bike.  That _was_ what the sign said, in one of those cheesy fluorescent lights, right above the slightly smaller—also glowing—word, 'vacancy'.

"Uh-uh.  No way.  We are not going to stop off for a little nap—which, by the way, I think you've had more than enough of for the day—we do not have time for this."

Alec started to get up, but she pulled him back into his seat before he could get far.  He turned toward her, his expression falsely understanding.  "I know the mere idea of not being near me for a few minutes is extremely painful for you—but I have to go get us a room."

She ignored him.  "Haven't you been listening to a word I've said?  We're not staying here."

He sat quietly, as if deliberating her words.  Then he glanced at her with raised eyebrows.  "Are you upset because I didn't buy you dinner first?"

"Get off my bike," she snapped.

"That was what I was _trying_ to do that, when _you_ stopped me."  He caught her expression and paused.

"If you want to stay here, then fine.  But you'll be staying alone.  I'm going to go find Joshua—with or without you."  Her leg was stiff and sore, and the truth was, she didn't know how she would manage if Alec _did_ choose to stay behind.  But she was banking on the hope that she could bluff her way into getting him to go along with her.

It didn't work.

He snorted, "Like hell you're doing this on your own.  You can barely stand.  You _can't_ walk.  No"—he held up his hand at her expression, cutting her off before she could even speak—"that's hobbling, not walking."  He dropped the hand.  "And if you come up against White, you're as good as dead."

"And if Joshua comes up against White?" she demanded angrily.

Alec shook his head.  "White doesn't want Joshua; he wants you.  And think about it, Max—even if he is tracking Joshua as we speak, he'll probably wait until you show up before he makes his move."

"'Probably' isn't good enough.  There's also a chance he _will_ catch Joshua and then use him as bait."  She halted as she considered the possibility.

"So?" Alec prodded.  "Then we'll just rescue him.  Still, he doesn't want Joshua _dead_, and at least then we'll be going in full form, not like a couple of lame horses."

Max glanced at him sharply.  "I thought you said your head was fine."

"Uh, it is," he replied quickly.  "I meant one lame horse, one fine, healthy stallion."  He flashed her a cocky grin.  Then, more seriously, "Really, Max, just a few hours.  Clean up that wound, a bit of rest—that's all."

She frowned, and gave one weak last-ditch effort.  "Well, what about the sector police?  They're still after him, even if White decides to back off."

Alec regarded her skeptically.  "Oh please—sector police?"

"Yeah, you're right."  Max sighed momentarily.  "Okay, fine; just a few hours.  At daybreak, we're outta here."

He grinned wide as he got off the bike.  Too wide, in fact, she thought as she watched him suspiciously.  "What are you so happy about?"

The grin grew, if possible.  "I actually won an argument against you.  I'll have to remember to mark this day on my calendar when we get back.  I have a feeling I'll be celebrating the anniversary of this moment for years to come."  A strangely dreamy expression overcame his features, making them seem softer than usual.

"How optimistic of you to assume you'll live long enough for that."  But her words lacked the usual venom and Alec just nodded indulgently.  "Now get your ass moving.  The clerk's starting to look at us funny."

True enough, through the clear glass door of the motel lobby, they could see that the scrawny, shaggy looking young man who seemed to have forgotten the meaning of the words "bath" and "haircut" none too recently, found them almost as interesting as his little television, glancing toward the pair sporadically.

"Okay, I'll get my ass moving, but how do I know you won't be checking it out the moment I turn around?"

"Alec," she began warningly.

"Alright, alright, you can look.  But," he wagged a finger at her, a stern expression on his face, "no pictures.  Or else I'm going to have to start charging."

Before she could reply—and not as if she had anything to say anyway, since her usual threat of an ass kicking would have been entirely hollow right now, and they both knew it—he was walking away.  And, of course, pink elephant effect:  _because_ he'd told her not to look—or made a point of rubbing the whole thing in her face—she couldn't help but do so.

_What are you doing?_ she thought furiously._  You're checking out Alec's ass!_

_If you already knew the answer, _came the snide response within her head, _why'd you ask?_

_Because, it's Alec!  It's just wrong,_ she replied.

Wait a minute…  Max frowned.  It was alright to have _one_ voice inside your head—you could always brush it off as your conscience, your muse, or whatever—but multiple voices, never a good sign.

_So,_ voice two retorted, unaware of her other dilemma, _he has a nice ass._

_'Nice'?  You're kidding—it's amazing!_

What the hell?!  Since when was voice number one _for_ the whole looking thing?  Fortunately, her disturbing thought sequences were interrupted by Alec's return.

"Ready to go in?"

With slight relief, she looked up at him and replied, "Ass."

Or maybe not so fortunate.

"What?" he asked looking at her strangely.

"Yes—I said yes!"

"Uh-huh," he nodded disbelievingly.  When he reached over to pick her up, she hesitated briefly before letting him.  The short trip to their newly acquired room was understandably uncomfortable for Max.  "You better not get used to this sorta treatment.  Getting all pampered and chauffered around… I'm nobody's bitch."

"Except Normal's."

"Except—" he stopped.  "Hey, I am_ not_ Normal's bitch.  It's possible he might be mine, but never the other way around."  He looked severely disturbed as he unlocked the door, nudged it open and managed to flick on the light switch, all within seconds.

Then Max realized a glaringly obvious fact as they entered the room.  "There's only one bed."

"Yep," he dropped her unceremoniously onto that bed.  She shot him a glare as she raised herself to her elbows, but he seemed to think nothing of it, pulling off his coat and tossing it next to her.

"And there's no couch."

He glanced around the small room, grabbing the drug store bag from her, "Nope."

She paused, awaiting further reaction, but finding none, continued, "Then one of us is sleeping on the floor."

Alec looked away from the contents of the bag and toward the floor, an expression of mild disgust on his features.  "Not me."

Max followed the line of his gaze, taking in the wholly unsanitary view below.  "_Definitely_ not me."  She glanced up.  "Then we have a problem."

"Yeah," he agreed, frowning thoughtfully.  "I didn't bring my spare battery, and if I keep running my cell like this, it's going to die out soon.  Then the phone'll be pretty much useless."

"That's not what I was talking about," she said, giving him a look.  "We are not sleeping in the same bed."

"Look, we hardly have a choice…" he began.

"No, maybe _you_ don't, but _I_ do.  And my choice is not to sleep in the same bed as you."  She sat up stiffly, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to look as imposing as one could in her present circumstances.

"Well," he considered, "since we've already established that neither of us is sleeping on the floor, and you're not willing to sleep in the same bed with me… the options left available are for you to sleep in the bathtub, sleep standing up, or not sleep at all."

She snuck a quick glance in the direction of the bathroom, but considering the condition of the floor, the bathtub didn't very appealing.  Besides, why should _she_ be the one to find alternate sleeping arrangements?  "What about you?"

He shrugged.  "I don't have a problem sleeping in the bed."  Picking something out of the bag, he chucked it at her without looking up, "Gum."

Max reached up and snatched the little packet before it could nail her in the face.  "I don't have a problem sleeping in the bed either."  She dropped the gum on the bed.  Peppermint… ugh.  "Just.  Not.  With.  You."

Alec looked up with big, wide eyes.  "Oh, so it's alright as long as we're just having sex, but when I want to cuddle, to have you just hold me through the night—it's too much to ask.  I feel so used and dirty."

"We've never had sex," she bit out in annoyance.

"That's not what _you've_ been saying," he pointed out with a slightly smug grin.

She turned away from him then, not wanting to start that conversation again—hell, she never wanted to have it in the first place, but circumstances change and that whole scene with Logan…

"Why the hell couldn't you just get a room with two beds?"

He was rifling through the bag again, picking out whatever he needed.  "Look around you Max," he said, his voice muffled slightly as he held something in his teeth, but still there was enough condescension in his tone for her to catch.  "This isn't exactly the sort of place people come to, to sleep in separate beds.  Doesn't quite cater to the whole family-oriented scene."  Grabbing a plastic cup, he deposited the remaining supplies on the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"Really," she returned just as sarcastically over the sound of running tap water, "I didn't notice, what with that titty bar down the street."

The water abruptly shut off and Alec stuck his head back out the door.  "Hey, Joe's House of Boom-Booms is more than just a titty bar."

"You've been there before."  It wasn't a question, just an observation.  "Why am I not surprised?"

Alec came back from the bathroom, the cup full in his hand.  "Okay," he said as he reached the bed.  "Take off your pants."

"_What?_"

"I need to clean and bandage your wound," he replied innocently.  "Can't do that while you're wearing those."  He pointed toward her jeans and she involuntarily followed his gaze.

"I'll take care of it myself," she snapped, trying to take the supplies from him, but he held them just out of reach.

"Tsk, tsk, Maxie.  You know as well as I do that self-administered first aid is only a last resort solution.  Besides," he shrugged, "it's not as if I've never seen you without your pants on before."

"_What?_" she spat out, then realized she was starting to sound a bit repetitive.  "You've never seen me without my pants on!"

"Yeah," he conceded, "but let me do this, and the next time I use that line, it'll be true."

She relaxed slightly as she tried to suppress a slight grin.   "That is the most twisted appeal to logic that I've ever heard."

"And yet, you're strangely won over by my argument."

"No, I just remembered that self-administered first-aid shit," she returned.  Well, truthfully, she had never _forgotten_ it in the first place, so there was no remembering required… but that was a minor detail that she didn't need to delve into.

He shrugged.  "Whatever gets you out of your pants."  Then he paused.  "I didn't mean it quite like _that_—but that works too."

She rolled her eyes.  "You are a charming devil," she said dryly as she pulled down the blankets and slipped under.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her curiously.

"Well," she replied, shimmying out of her jeans beneath the protection of the covers, "the bullet only hit my calf.  So, there's no need for me to be sitting out here pant-less and completely uncovered."  Wrapping the sheets securely about her, she pulled out the injured leg, leaving only the knee and below bare.  "Set to it."

He stared at her a moment, then lifted her leg in one hand, using the other to swab the wound with a clean cloth that he dipped in the cup of water.  "You know, I don't get this whole modesty thing of yours.  Back at Manticore, we were taught to look at our bodies just like any of our training or skills."  He shrugged slightly, eyes still concentrated on her leg.  "They designed these bodies, and there's no reason why we should feel shame for any aspect of their design."

Max watched his hands as he worked.  "Modesty and shame are not the same thing," she pointed out.

"Maybe not."  He glanced up.  "But modesty's a human thing.  Humans are flawed—we're not."  He dropped the first cloth and picked up a new one, applying something from a bottle.  "They tend to be self-conscious of their flaws—we have none to be self-conscious about."  Holding the cloth over her wound, he warned, "Rubbing alcohol."

She said nothing as he applied it, steeling herself for the sting.  "So what," she spoke skeptically, once he'd put it away and begun unrolling a clean white bandage, "You're telling me you'd be okay with walking around buck naked in front of a bunch of complete strangers?"

He grinned slightly.  "In front of complete strangers, or people I already know… if circumstances allowed and there was some benefit in being naked over being clothed—then, yes.  I would."  He proceeded to wrap the bandage over her leg.

She rolled her eyes.  "Right.  I'll believe that when I see it."  Fumbling, she added, "Not that I would _want_ to see that anyway."  He said nothing.  "Cuz I wouldn't."  He glanced up, silent, eyebrows raised slightly.  Finally, he finished as he hooked the wrapping over.

"There," he announced, placing her leg back on the bed sheet.  "All done."  Gathering up the soiled supplies and unused portions, he tossed them into a small garbage can.  "Maybe you should give Logan a call and tell him what's up."

She stayed on the bed, watching him.  "What are you doing?" she asked after him as he picked her jeans off the bed and headed to the bathroom.

Alec turned back toward her.  "I'm going to try to get the bloodstains out of your pants; they don't exactly qualify as inconspicuous.  And then I thought I'd wash my hair, since the whole bloodied, matted look just doesn't work for me… or so my hair stylist says."

"Oh."  She felt a little guilty at having forgotten his injury so quickly.  Contemplating offering him a hand, she finally decided against it, knowing that he would take it entirely out of context, wholly in the name of irritating her.  Instead, she picked out Alec's cell from his coat pocket, and flipped it open, dialing the familiar number.

"Yeah," came the quick reply.

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey, Max, what's up?"  She heard another voice running in the background, but it paused before she could identify it.

"We followed up on the calls and tracked Joshua into this abandoned building—"

"Yeah, I heard about that on the police radios."

"Oh.  Anyway, I tried to get him to come with us, but then they got my leg."

"Are you alright?"  Concern colored his voice, and she almost smiled, before remembering that she wasn't supposed to encourage these sorts of reactions.

"Yeah, fine.  It was just a graze," she said briskly.  "Anyway, we—me and Alec—decided to hole up for the rest of the night.  You know, recuperate so we can start afresh in the morning."  No reason to point out that whole 'recuperation' thing was Alec's idea and she had only grudgingly given in.  She had an image to protect.  "We'll call you in the morning when we get going again."

"Um, sure," he said, sounding a bit strained.  That's fine."  Then he continued, "Asha's here.  She'll be monitoring the radio frequency being used by sector police and I guess I'll catch a bit of rest, too."

"Oh, alright."  Well it wasn't really, not with her, but she didn't say it out loud.  Would she seem like too big a bitch if she told him she simply didn't trust the job to Asha, that she would prefer that l'il Miss S1W just stay out of this whole deal?  Probably.  She stifled a sigh.  "Okay.  Guess I'll talk to you in the morning then."

"Yeah.  In the morning," he agreed.

"Later."  She hesitated slightly then hung up.  After a few a more seconds of staring at the little phone, she placed it on the little worn night table and lay down.  Pulling the covers up over herself, she attempted to make herself comfortable.

The bathroom door opened.  "Well, that was refreshing.  But there's no way in hell I'm touching that towel—"

"Turn off the light."

"—risk of infection, and all."  A click followed shortly and the room plunged into darkness, her eyes adjusting quickly to the change.  "And I _finally_ managed to get that stubborn stain out, although I don't think your jeans will ever be quite back to normal.  Who knew blood was so hard to get out?"  He sounded honestly baffled.

"You don't do much laundry, do you?" she inquired.

"Nah.  If it's clean—looks good, smells alright—I wear it.  If not, I toss it out and buy something new."

She heard him make his way to his side of the bed, not seeing the progress for her back was turned to him.  Then came the slight rustle of clothing, and frowning, she flipped toward him.  "What are you doing?"  The shirt he'd pulled over his head was currently held in his hands, while his damp hair stuck up in haphazard clumps.

"I'm getting undressed for bed," he answered simply.  He tossed the shirt onto the bed.

"Oh no you're not," she corrected.  "All clothing stays on."  She picked up the shirt and tossed it back at him.  Hmm, talk about déjà vu.  At least he wasn't telling her it was time to 'copulate'.

"C'mon Max," he whined slightly.  "I can't sleep in my clothes.  It's _uncomfortable_."

"Well, you did it well enough back at Manticore," she said unsympathetically.

"Yeah, well, a lot's changed since Manticore.  I admit I've gotten a little soft."  He shrugged, then changed tempo with a sudden knowing smirk.  "Besides, what are you so afraid of?  I know _I _won't be jumping _you_ in the middle of the night; I have a little more self-control than that.  So then, you must be worried about your own impulses."

"Oh, shut up," she replied, returning to face the other side.  It just wasn't worth the effort.  Not after all they'd already been through tonight, and despite his words, she could sense Alec was tired too.  "Fine, just remember this:  if _any_ part of your anatomy makes contact with mine, I will promptly proceed to remove it from the rest of your body."

"I'll try to control myself," he said dryly.  Then she heard the distinctive sound of a zipper being lowered.  Max squeezed her eyes shut.

"Hey, it's a good thing I decided to wear underwear today," he said conversationally, "Otherwise, it might've been a bit uncomfortable."  Max said nothing, and felt the bed shift under his weight as he climbed in.

"Hope you're not a blanket hog."  Again, nothing.  Just a brief silence as she willed herself to ignore him.

"You don't snore, do you?"

"Alec!"  She felt him jump slightly beside her.  "Shut the hell up and go to sleep."

"Right," he replied, surprising her a little with his ready compliance.

Then she tried to follow her own advice, but finding it exceedingly difficult, she squirmed a little on her side of the bed.  She was all too conscious of how close he was, on his own half of the narrow bed, feeling as she could, the heat his body emanated.  "Couldn't you have at least gotten a room with a bigger bed?" she grumbled.

"Oh, right," he replied shortly, his tone slightly sarcastic, but mostly sleepy.  "I'll ring up the concierge and ask him for a room change… maybe something with a king size.  And while I'm at it, I might as well order us a couple of lobster dinners and a bottle of chardonnay."

She sighed slightly, no snappy comebacks jumping to mind.  "Fine, let's just call a truce for the remainder of the night.  In the morning, we can go back to normal."

She heard him yawn.  "'Kay."  Within seconds, his breathing had evened and she knew he was already asleep.

Damn shark DNA.  This was going to be a_ long_ few hours.

TBC

REVIEW!!!!  Thnx.


	10. More than just a little Friction

**A/N:**  What, did you think they could sleep in the same bed without any additional problems?

**Friction**

**Chapter 10:  More than just a little Friction**

When Alec awoke in the morning, he did so to the very pleasant sensation of a warm body pressed along the front of his.  Warm and female, very female.  He smiled faintly, burying his face in the wonderfully soft curtain of hair before him.

It took him exactly 3.2 seconds to realize something was wrong.

That was when he realized just _whom_ that warm body belonged to.  A certain someone who had warned him but a few hours earlier not to allow any part of his anatomy to touch her, under punishment of removal.  And right now, it looked like there was a whole lot going to be removed.

He was lying on his side, his chest to her back, one arm draped over her waist, holding her close.  And the hand of the other arm, believe it or not, had somehow managed to stumble its way up her shirt, resting above the flat plane of her stomach, over her ribcage.  In fact—he cringed to realize even while he was secretly wondering if he'd died and gone to heaven—the length of his thumb was pressed up against an expanse of very firm… full… flesh.

_Don't think about it, you moron, don't even think!_

But it was too late, his own warning had gone unheeded, and now there was _another_ part of his body he could kiss goodbye.  Figuratively, of course.  Genetic enhancement aside, he was no contortionist.

He prayed to any gods who might be listening and taking pity on his situation—while wondering if maybe he shouldn't also be thanking them—to not let Max wake up.  He valued his life and limbs too much to risk that.

Slowly, and ever so carefully, he began to slide his hand downward, trying in vain not to think about the smooth flesh he encountered along the way.

_At ease soldier!_  His jaw clenched with the effort, and a few beads of perspiration built on his upper lip.  Finally his hand slipped free and he was able to concentrate on the task of removing the arm under her.  After what seemed like far, far too long, he was almost out, rolling onto his back.  Two whole safe feet away from her, on his own side of the bed.  All that was left was his hand, which was… just… making… its way…

Suddenly Max shifted and turned over straight into his chest, one leg twining—the non-bandaged one—with his own, and Alec was seconds away from full panic mode.  Sure, _she had rolled into __his arms, but knowing Max, she would find some way to blame him anyway.  And with the blame came the physical pain.  Plus, it wouldn't help his case any if she noticed the oh-so-difficult-to-ignore hard-on he was currently supporting._

Damn it, who the hell had kicked the covers off the bed?!  At least that obvious detail would have been a little less glaring if he had a couple of layers of blankets to hide it beneath.

Before he could react by throwing her out of his arms, or some other equally unsubtle reaction, she snuggled closer, her head resting on his shoulder, and let out the softest sigh, "Alec."

His world froze temporarily, as if someone had just hit the pause button.  He held his breath, his fiercely pounding heart stopped in his chest—a bedspring squeaking in the room next to theirs could have been heard in the ensuing silence.

Then it came back into play and a slow, hesitant smile uncurled on his lips.  _Well now, this is an interesting turn of events.  He craned his neck, staring down at her, taking in the expression of contentment on her face, and gently brushed an errant lock from her forehead.  Dropping his head back to the pillow, Alec stared up at the ceiling, the fingers of one hand absently stroking her hair._

Max had called _his name in her sleep.  And she hadn't sounded angry, or irritated, or disgusted, or any of those other emotions he generally tended to invoke in her during their encounters.  He frowned slightly, a strange sensation suddenly overtaking the pit of his stomach.  Did this __mean something?  That wasn't lust he heard in her voice, and lust he could understand.  But what else could it be?  Certainly, she didn't __care for him—she didn't even __like him, so it couldn't be more… could it?  No, she loved Logan.  Even if they weren't "like that," even if they'd "ended it."  Even if she was pretending she was with Alec to keep Logan at arm's length.  She wouldn't need to pretend anything if she didn't still __want to be with him._

Alec shook his head mentally, trying to clear it of these thoughts, and glanced back down—only to find himself staring into a pool of very awake chocolate-colored eyes.

_No, brown, he mentally corrected himself.  __They're just brown._

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He glanced at his fingers, hovering over her hair, took in the dangerous spark to her eyes, and wondered on the best approach.

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine."

Apparently, he missed the mark.

"Screw the good mornings.  I asked you what you were doing," she bit out, anger flashing in her features.

He felt a muscle twitch in his jaw.

Okay, granted, it was a compromising position she'd awoken to find them in, but it was _not his fault.  After all, he had expended a great deal of effort to avoid this very sort of confrontation, and he wasn't going to put up with this self-righteous shit from her._

"What does it look like I was doing?  I was trying to sleep when you decided to use me as your full-body human pillow."

Her eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring slightly.  "Well, it doesn't look like you"—she spared a quick downward glance—"were minding it all that much."

He followed the direction of her gaze.  "Oh, that," he answered blithely.  Yeah, it was probably too much to hope she just wouldn't notice.  Or at least he liked to think _it was too much.  He shrugged the one shoulder he could move, the other still trapped beneath Max's head.  "Since you missed your anatomy lessons back at Manticore, let me fill you in:  I have the parts, yours are compatible, and when you're rubbing yourself up against me like you're looking to start a fire, it's gonna cause more than just a little friction."  Then he shifted his arm slightly, "And as much as I enjoy having you lying here on top of me, Maxie, I have to be honest with you—my arm's starting to fall asleep."_

She pulled away from him then.  Actually, "pull" might have been too mild a word; something more along the lines of "yanked" or "ripped" would probably have been better.  Sitting up abruptly, she rested her weight on the palms of her hands.  "I was _not rubbing myself against you!" she declared in outrage.  She might have looked a little more intimidating if she weren't sitting there in just her shirt and panties.  But __he wasn't about to tell her that._

Alec propped himself up on his elbows, shifting slightly to a more comfortable position.  He couldn't help but notice the way her eyes darted to the front of his boxers and then quickly back up to his face, her cheeks flushing a delicious shade of pink.  "Yeah, how can you be sure?  You were asleep, weren't you?  Or did you roll into my arms while you were awake?"  He continued on amiably, speaking almost as if to himself, "Of course, there was that whole moaning my name thing, so now I'm wondering if maybe you _were awake… I mean, what reason would you have for calling out __my name in your sleep?"_

He could see Max's rage in her features, building with each word, and yet he was unable to stop himself, unable to prevent himself from goading her further.  There was just something about the way she looked when she was angry…

"Shut the hell up," she hissed, on her knees now, hands clenched at her side, looking and sounding like a cornered alley cat.  "Don't, for a second, think that any of that's gonna work on me.  I'd have to be a complete moron to actually believe anything that came out of _your mouth."_

Alec's eyes narrowed, his own anger rising in return.  He had abandoned the casual pose along the way, and brought himself upright, into a sitting position—not quite eye-to-eye, her being on her knees, but close enough.  "Really?  Then how would you explain the fact that it was _you lying with __your head on __my shoulder; that it was __your leg resting on top of __mine; that it was __your thigh rubbing up against __my—"_

"I don't have to explain anything," she hastily interrupted.  "_I was asleep.  You, however, were wide-awake.  What the hell were __you thinking?  And for god's sake, will you please do something about that?" she waved a hand in the direction of his adamant arousal, her gaze hovering somewhere over his shoulder._

Alec grinned, the potential of the opportunity simply too much to pass up for the sake of what would have been a short-lived cease-fire anyway.  "Jeez Max, first you practically jump me in your sleep, now you're begging?  If you want me, you just have to say so.  I'd be happy to oblige."

"Not even in your dreams, Alec," she returned, climbing off the bed and affording him a tantalizing view as she bent over to pick up her jeans and shoes before heading for the bathroom.

Inwardly, he groaned.  Now _there was plenty of fodder for some nighttime fantasies.  Outwardly, he mustered together all the cheekiness he could manage in order to live up to the name he had so aptly been given, and he answered, "But maybe in yours."_

The sound of a bathroom door slamming was his only response.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Max came back out Alec was, wisely, already dressed.  He snuck a glance in her direction as he finished putting on his shoes.  "How's the leg?"

He felt her eyes bore into his head even though he wasn't looking.  "You don't know?  You had a pretty clear view earlier… or were you just not looking that far down?"

Rolling his eyes safely outside the scope of her vision, he replied, "Well, since you're back to harping on me already, I'm sure it's just fine."

"Here," he continued, tossing his phone toward her.  She caught it easily with one hand.  "You call Wonder Boy, let him know we're ready to move out again, and I'll return this"—he held out the room key—"to the owner of this illustrious establishment."

"I have a better idea," she returned, walking toward him, throwing the phone back the very instant she snatched the key from his hand.  "_You call Wonder Boy—I mean, Logan—and __I'll return the key."_

Alec stared at her a moment, taking in the defiant expression, the 'you got a problem with that?' set to her hips, and he knew—_knew—she had only pulled the switch because __he had made the decision._

He clenched his jaw and strained his neck around slightly.  "Fine."

She nodded, a perfunctory movement of her head.  "Good."

She headed toward the door, her limp barely noticeable, and he followed behind.  "Great."  Flipping open the cell as she walked to the motel lobby, he stayed at the bike.

"Okay."

Damn that girl!  She just couldn't let him have the last word, could she?

"Hello?"

"Uh… Asha?"  His attention shifted from the stubborn, mule-headedness that was Max, to the voice at the other end of the line.

"Oh, hey Alec," she greeted easily.  "I've been waiting for you guys to call."

"You have?" he asked hesitantly.  Did Max know Asha was there with Logan, at his apartment?

"Yeah, sure.  Logan's right here.  Hold on—let me wake him up."

'Wake him up?' Alec mouthed to himself, as if repeating the words would somehow make them make more sense.  This was turning into one weird-ass day.  Alec was waking up next to—or halfway on top of—Logan's girl, and Logan was waking up next to… Asha?

Moments later, a sleep-thickened voice greeted him.  "Hello."

"Hey, just letting you know we're moving out again.  What have you got for us?"

"Uh… just a minute."  He could hear paper shuffling, murmured conversation between the pair at the other end, then Logan came back on the line.  "Alright," he said, sound considerably more awake this time, "Well, first of all, the sector police have descriptions out on both of you.  Pretty vague, but they do know there are at least a couple people actively aiding their 'fugitive'."

"Okay," Alec replied, expecting no less after the previous night's incidents, "And would you happen to have any idea where our fugitive might be at this point?"

"Yeah, they lost track of him over night, but they did follow him into Sector 8—and that's where they're still looking."

"Sector 8?" Alec grimaced, wrinkling his nose.  "Dump central.  Why does he have to pick the dirtiest, smelliest sector of the bunch?"

"Probably because he's less likely to be spotted and reported to the police by 'concerned citizens'," came the reply from behind him.

"Is that Max?" Logan's too-eager voice inquired.

"Nope, it's me doing my best impression of Max.  Got you good though, didn't I?"

Max gave him a look and settled onto the _front of the bike._

"Right," Logan gave a slight sigh at the other end.  "Just get to Sector 8, and I'll call you back as soon as I pick up something on the police scanners."

"Sure," Alec replied, as a half-stifled yawn greeted his ears.  _Betcha Max doesn't bitch at Logan__ when he__ catches a little extra sleep.  He was about to hang up, but then he gave in to that little devilish voice inside his head, adding at the last instant, "Say bye to Asha for me."  Click.  The phone snapped shut._

Turning back to Max, he found her staring straight ahead, back stiff and face expressionless.  "Let's go."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, hopping on behind her.

TBC

Now, won't you review?


	11. Adrenaline

**A/N:**  Thank you Lyla for informing me that Sector 5 is actually where Max lives… I know it's obscure but I'm real nit-picky, so I went back and changed it at the end of the last chapter to Sector 8.  No problems with 8, right?

**Friction**

**Chapter 11:  Adrenaline**

"This is all your fault," Max hissed, not bothering to glance at Alec as she spoke, both crouched in the shadows, backs against the wall.

"My fault?" he replied incredulously.  "How's that?"

They kept their voices low, for the cavernous building had been designed in such a way that even the smallest noises were magnified and carried through the entire interior.  And the fact that White and his men were presently scouring this very building for the pair of transgenics was more than enough reason to maintain an air of caution.

"_You_ stopped to tie your shoe," she answered.  "We would never have been spotted if you didn't stop."

"Oh please," he scoffed.  "Me stopping to tie my shoelace only sped up the inevitable.  It was your damn shortcut that did us in."

Voices sounded from directly below the railing on which they were crouched, and both froze into abrupt silence.  Max held her breath, staring tensely down at her feet and beyond, the grated surface of the ledge allowing her to watch the action below.  Of course, if she could see them below, that meant _they_ could see above.  Fortunately, it never occurred to the men to glance up.  She couldn't understand why—she had pulled the ol' falling from the ceiling routine enough times already that they should have clued in that 'up' was not always safe.  White's boys may have been brighter than your average sector cop, but not by much.

"Come on," one of the men instructed upon receiving an all clear from his partner, and they moved on.

"My shortcut was fine," she returned as they resumed creeping in the direction opposite to the one in which the men had disappeared.  "Or at least it would have been fine if you hadn't _stopped_.  Besides, you're the one who turned into this stupid warehouse, where we are now trapped."  She paused again as she heard movement nearby.

_Just a stray cat, she realized in relief, watching as the blurred ball of fur leapt from a length of railing close by to a pile of boxes below._

Unfortunately, someone's mental processes were not quite as fast as hers, as a hail of bullets was suddenly let out at the orange mass that flew through the air.  It seemed that luck was on Mr. Kitty's side today.  A startled screech was heard from the animal, but other than the possible psychological damage, it came out unharmed from the attack, landing shortly and sprinting out the sole unguarded exit as fast as felinely possible.

When the shots rang out, Max felt herself falling to the surface of the narrow ledge, back hitting the metal grate as Alec's weight landed atop her.  The instant before she fell though, a bullet whizzed by her ear.

"They tried to shoot that cat!" she whispered indignantly, the absurdity of the comment momentarily lost on her.  What could she say—the feline DNA in her gave her a certain sense of camaraderie with all creatures possessing an occasional tendency to purr and attack a ball of yarn.

"And they almost shot you by accident," Alec returned harshly.  "You have to be more careful!"

Max turned her head abruptly, entirely prepared to snap back some remark about the unpredictability of stray bullets, but the thought died in her head as she found herself looking up into his face.  Their noses were almost touching, and he was staring right back at her with frighteningly intense green eyes.  It would almost have been uncomfortable—and, in a way, it was—but for the fact that she was suddenly incapable of forming a complete, cohesive thought.

If she _had been capable of logical thought, she wouldn't have let her gaze stray down to his mouth.  Not just because of what that sight did to her, but also because of the obvious effect the gesture had on Alec as well._

When her eyes returned to his, it was clear they were both on the same wavelength.  Hesitant, and unsure of where to go next—but on the same wavelength.

Alec spoke first, "Ma—"  But it was Max who made the first move.

That was as far as he got in whatever he'd planned to say, because suddenly she was kissing him.  _She was kissing _him_.  And she was just as surprised as he was, maybe even a little more._

_Oh god, he's never gonna let me live this down_, was her first thought.  Of course, when he started kissing back, his tongue slipping past her lips, that thought was quickly replaced by a new one.  _Oh god, don't let him stop_.

Since when had she attained this newfound faith?

He didn't stop.  Instead, he fisted one hand in her hair, angling her head slightly to allow him better access to her mouth.  The other one went to the curve of her hip, tracing the length up, slowly, to her waist.  In fact, everything he was doing was slow, slow and hard.  Funny, she'd never had that combination before.  Up until now, she hadn't even known it was possible.

But it was possible.  Very, very… possible.

Max felt him slip past the hem of her shirt, hot fingers brushing even hotter flesh.  He pulled back slightly, his tongue tracing her lower lip, and as she arched up into his touch, she let out a half-frustrated, half-satisfied moan.

The full implications of what she'd done didn't hit her until her sensitive hearing, which seemed even more so at the moment, picked up a voice.

"Did you hear that?"

It was a whisper, a very tentative one, hardly enough for a normal human to hear from more than a few short feet away.  But it was enough to make both transgenics stiffen immediately.  Alec drew away from her mouth, his darkened eyes widening slightly as he stared down into her own.

"Fuck!" his lips formed the word, though no sound escaped his mouth.

_Just what I was thinking_, Max thought, though she thrust it aside immediately.  It was wrong, wrong, wrong.  Not just because of the timing and circumstances, but because this was _Alec_.  She was _not_ supposed to feel this way about Alec!  It wasn't right!  And it also wasn't right how many times she had keep reminding herself it 'wasn't right' to have such thoughts about him… but she'd have to deal with that later.

"Up there!"

Right now, they were both far too busy jumping to their feet and trying to escape the fresh new hail of bullets that sailed their way.  The whole evading part was made especially difficult by the fact that they had only two directions to go on the ledge—left or right.  And having people shooting at them from both sides made either option a little grim.

Then Max had a little burst of inspiration, one that would hopefully redeem her for the momentary slip-up just a few second earlier.  She gestured to Alec quickly, indicating for him to follow, and dove over the edge.

Learn a little something from the kitty-cat.  She headed for the very pile of boxes the feline had landed on, and though her greater weight caused them to cave in, the cardboard still protected her from the long fall.  As she rolled off, and onto her knees, Alec landed just a bit to her right, on fresh batch of boxes.

Another bullet whirred by, far too close to her head, as Max made a dash for the exit with Alec at her heels.  White's angry voice rang out behind them, "Shoot to stun, you morons, not to kill!"  She wondered briefly if those instructions applied to her and Alec both, or if she was just privileged by the slight consideration.  _Arrogant prick probably just wants to rub his victory in my face for a while._

When they reached the sunlight outside, Max began to turn left to head for her ninja, but found her arm gripped in Alec's hand.  "No, this way," he instructed, heading in the opposite direction.

She didn't argue, but she couldn't help but dole out, "If _anything_ happens to my bike in the meantime, you won't have to worry about White and his crew."

Alec didn't look at her as he led through a series of twists and turns, so many that soon she was lost herself, giving her the slight hope that their pursuers would be as well.  "Sometimes I wish you were a 'normal' human."

"Why's that?" she asked, startled despite their situation.

"Because normal humans can't really run and talk at the same time."

Usually, she would have hit him for such a comment, or barring that, at least returned it with a reprimand or some sort of insult.  This time however, she said, "So you like your women pretty, dumb, and quiet."  The moment the words were out of her mouth, she felt like hitting herself.  There were so many connotations with the 'your women' part—what was she thinking?  But, surprising her, he didn't remark on that part.

"Oh no, not quiet," she saw him grin, "Just when they make the noise, it's not talking I have in mind."

After a while, they slowed until finally they were down to a walk.  "Looks like we lost them," Alec observed.  Max nodded her head in agreement.

They continued walking, trying to gauge how far they were from the warehouse and where it was safe for them to keep going.  "We should probably give Logan a call, see if he's got anything for us on Joshua's location."  They both tensed up a little at the mention of Logan's name.  "Listen," Max continued after a moment, "about what happened back there…"

"It was nothing," Alec interrupted hastily.

"Right," she nodded.  "Just adrenaline—making us confuse what we were feeling at the time.  Adrenaline makes people do crazy things."  _Yeah right, keep telling yourself that… and you _still_ won't believe it_.

"Uh-huh, just our signals getting all crossed and messed up.  It was the situation, and the circumstances."

She frowned at him, a slightly puzzled expression.  "Aren't you being a bit redundant?  Situation and circumstances mean the same thing—"

"Max…"

She stopped.  Okay, maybe now was the best time to get into that.

"Anyway," he continued, shrugging a little as if trying to ease the mood with the casual gesture, "the important thing to remember is that it will never happen again."

Max quickly agreed.  "Never again."

They both stared straight ahead as they walked, neither daring to meet the other's eyes.  "Never," he echoed.

"Never," she said, nodding as she spoke.

There was a slight pause, a silence between them, leading her to believe that the conversation had ended.  Then, in the very edge of her peripheral vision, she saw Alec turn slightly, sneaking a glance at her.  "Never?"

Max stopped walking.  She looked at him abruptly, her incredulous gaze locking with his somewhat startled one, and he stumbled back a step as if unbalanced by the move.  The expression on his face—the hopeful, curious, cautious, slightly dreading expression—made her consider, just momentarily, changing her mind.  _No, not never_, she wanted to say.  _Hell, maybe even soon—like, right now_.  But like she'd told herself earlier, it wasn't right.  This was Alec.

So instead she replied, emphatically, "_Never_."

There was the briefest hesitation, and then all those emotions disappeared from his face, his expression returning to its usual unreadable state.  He nodded quickly a sense of finality in the gesture.  "Right.  Never."

TBC

Reviews!  So inspiring, and whenever I read them, I grin like an idiot.  C'mon, make me grin like an idiot!


	12. When Push comes to Shove

**A/N:**  Grinning like a complete and utter fool, I am.

**Friction**

**Chapter 12:  When Push comes to Shove**

The sewers, the sewers, always with the sewers.

"Didn't I call it?" Alec remarked, the expression on his face a distasteful grimace.

He wasn't sure who he blamed most:  Joshua, for leading them down here; Logan, for being the messenger and giving them this most recent direction; or Max, who had nothing to do with this, but fuck—that girl was just so damn frustrating!

'Never again', huh?  Well, he didn't really believe that, despite what he'd said himself, but that didn't stop him from being irritated at hearing the words coming from her mouth.

Adrenaline—bullshit.  It might have explained the kiss—_might_ have—but it didn't explain the motel incident.  And when you put the two together, added to that everything else, it didn't explain much at all.

The moment he saw her expression when she said Logan's name, he realized it wasn't progress they made at all, but just a little detour on her road back to realizing she couldn't be without Mr. Eyes Only.

What the hell was it about that guy that made her think they were so 'meant to be'?  All they ever did was hurt each other, and make themselves miserable.  And it wasn't like they had this insurmountable passion for each other; at the best of times, they just seemed… comfortable.  And those times when they weren't even that, he had to wonder just what they were sticking around for.

There wasn't much chemistry even—not anymore.  Original Cindy had once confessed to him—in one of those ultimately rare moments when she actually shared something about 'her girl' without said girl's knowledge—that they had had that chemistry once.  The kind of… connection, where sparks flew at their every touch.  But it all changed not long after Max came back from Manticore.  Could've been since they no longer had that ability to touch, to let those sparks fly.

Personally, he thought the virus had just sped up the inevitable.  The relationship was going to go south eventually; those two were just incompatible.  Of course, maybe if it had gone that way naturally—without Manticore, Renfro, and the virus hitting the fast-forward button—Max might have been a little more willing to let go.  Now she was clinging so desperately to what little was left, as if it were some sort of lifeline that would save her.

But it wasn't, and the fact that she couldn't see that, couldn't see to admit what was happening right before her eyes, made Alec angry.  Angry at her for being that way, angry at himself for caring, angry at Logan for getting there first, angry at Manticore for fucking them up so bad and then bringing them all together.

Angry at having to go back into those damn sewers.

"Will you move your butt already?" Max inquired from a few rungs above, her voice laced with mild annoyance.

Alec glared up at her, hating the way the sunlight shone through the open manhole, turning her hair into a halo around her down-turned head, making her seem like some sort of beautiful angel peering down at him from the heavens.  Bitch.  Did she have to be so damn… _tempting_?

"If you were in such a hurry, you could've gone first, you know," he replied in a tone no less irritated than her own.  He couldn't help the leaking over of residual feelings from their earlier conversation, especially when she seemed to be trying so valiantly to pretend that things were as usual, and that nothing had happened between them.

"I would have, but then I realized you'd probably claim I was just using it as an excuse to look at your ass again."  Her voice was teasing this time, but he felt no desire to return the banter.

Landing soundlessly, he wiped his hands on his pants and moved aside to allow her just enough room to reach the concrete surface.  Maybe she could pretend that there was nothing between them, but he wasn't going to help her to do it.  She was still wearing a grin as she joined him, but the expression faltered as she turned to find him standing there, staring down at her.  They were so close, that another inch forward for him, or another inch right for her, and they would be plastered against each other.

"Left or right?"

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes wide and confused.  "Huh?"

The corners of his mouth curled up just a bit at her response.  No, he wasn't going to help her to do it, but he wasn't going to push himself on her either.  Somehow he got the feeling Max wouldn't go for that sort of overt tactic, so maybe it was time to resort to a little subtlety.  It'd be something new for him, but he was up for a change in pace.

"Do we go left or right?" he repeated, not giving her even the slightest extra space.  If she wanted it, she was going to have to ask for it.

"Um, left?"  Her feet scuffed the ground as she edged away from him, but she was already trapped between him and the metal ladder, and had nowhere further to move.  Discomfort was apparent in every line and curve of her body, and he secretly smiled to see it.

Alec raised an eyebrow questioningly.  "Are you telling me, or asking?"

She considered that briefly.  "Telling?"  Biting her lip tentatively, she continued to meet his gaze with her own.

He stayed as he was for a few, tense seconds longer, then nodded abruptly and backed away.  "Alright."  He was already well on his way before he heard her first movement, though once she started, she caught up quickly.  When she did, he took the opportunity to put his arm around her waist and pull her close into his side.  "And you say we never go anywhere romantic."

It seemed that Max had recovered her senses well enough to manage her typical reaction this time.  She brusquely pushed aside the offending hand, which had been resting on her hip.  But she should have followed through with the motion or maybe used a little more force, because instead of returning to his side as she probably meant for it to do, it land squarely on her ass.  They both faltered in their steps and two sets of eyes—one green, and surprised, the other brown, and horrified—met.

Alec looked away from her, down to the contrast of his comparatively pale skin against her dark jeans.  _Interesting…  I wonder if I could manage an "accidental" squeeze._

Unfortunately, Max rectified the situation before he could act on that thought, shoving his hand aside as if it were a cobra threatening to strike.  Then, without saying a word, she resumed walking, speedily, so she ended up a few safe steps ahead of him.

He momentarily considered whether he should comment upon the incident, but then decided that sometimes, just sometimes, silence was better than words.  Besides, for once he actually couldn't think of anything _to_ say.  'Hey Max, thanks for letting me grope your ass' wasn't going to earn him any brownie points, or bring him any closer to his goal.

Eventually, the uncomfortable quiet between them became unbearably so.  Alec cleared his throat.  "You know, I would've thought the sewers would be the last place Joshua would want to be these days.  Shouldn't he be a bit shell-shocked after what happened last week?"

"He doesn't have a choice," she replied stiffly.  "If he wants to get around, this is the safest and shortest way."  They lapsed into silence once more.

"We're going in circles."

Max gave him a confused glance over her shoulder.  "No we're not; we've been going straight."

"No, not here," he corrected hastily.  "With this whole chasing after Joshua thing.  Think about it—Joshua's trying to get White to come after him, but instead he's got the sector police and us on his tail… figuratively speaking, of course.  And White's coming after us, but pretty much ignoring Joshua.  So really, we should just stay put and wait for White to come to us, and then Joshua would show up behind him."

"Your wonderful little plan has one minor flaw," she replied sardonically.  "White's got this crazy ol' idea about killing all transgenics, and if we wait until he comes to us in order to find Joshua, we'll probably end up dead first."

"Not if we set up an ambush or something.  Besides," he said, rolling his eyes, "it's not like we're getting anywhere this way.  If Joshua _wanted_ us to find him, it'd be a lot easier… but the thing is he _doesn't_.  And he's doing just as good a job evading us, as he is with everyone else."  He paused as he considered this.  "Kinda makes you proud of the big guy, doesn't—" 

Suddenly, Alec was stumbling backward, and as did, he realized that Max had shoved him, hard.  But since he hadn't been anticipating the move, he lost his balance, and the slippery, wet surface of the concrete passage provided no traction for his shoes.  He went right over the edge of the walkway and landed in sewer sludge, completely immersed for a fraction of second before he burst back upright.  His face was entirely covered in the grime and he couldn't open his eyes for fear of getting the awful smelling substance in them.  Raising his hands to clear it away, he recognized the futility of the gesture since they were no better off.

"Oh my god Alec," he heard Max say, her voice bubbling with a mixture of shock and laughter.

"Whatthehellwasthat?!" he spat out, not just the words but the liquid that had managed to run into his mouth in the meanwhile.  He was temporarily blind, not mute, and he was taking full advantage of his remaining four senses.  Um, make that three… smell was not one he needed to emphasize at this point.  Or two.  Taste was also out of the question.

"I thought I heard someone coming," she quickly explained.  He felt her hand take a hold of his wrist.

"So you pushed me into this shit?" he replied as she pulled him to his feet and back onto the landing.  Once he was back on relatively dry ground, he tried wiping at his eyes, but it was useless.  He just ended up replacing the gunk on his face with the stuff on his hands, and vice versa.

"Here, let me," she offered as she nudged his arms aside.  "No, I was trying to push you against the wall—I didn't know you'd just _fall_ over."  Her hands brushed gently over his face, first his eyes, then nose, cheeks, and finally just grazing over his mouth.  He tried not to think about the way it felt, tried to concentrate on the fact that she was solely responsible for him being covered, head to toe, in the smelliest substance he had ever had the displeasure of being coated with.  This was all her fault.  It was going to take a lot more than just the shivery sensation of her smooth flesh running over his to… make him… lose… track of…

Shit, what was he just thinking about?

When Max finally pulled away, he opened his eyes to find her wiping her palms on the thighs of her jeans.

He shook himself mentally.  "I wouldn't have 'fallen over' if you'd given me some sort of warning," he said with narrowed eyes.  "And where exactly is this mysterious person you heard coming?"

"Uh," she glanced away hesitantly.  "Looks like I was wrong.  False positive."  She shifted nervously on her feet, her shoulder shrugging in a strangely twitchy manner.

Alec's irritation was immediately replaced by surprise.  "Well now, that doesn't seem very soldierly, Max."  He observed her agitated movements.  "You feeling alright?"

"Fine," she replied quickly.  "I just misheard."  He said nothing, but looked at her skeptically.  Then abruptly, she instructed, "Let's go."

He watched her begin to walk away, and he called out, "You're gonna make me walk around like this?  My pants are all squishy and I stink."

"Deal with it," she returned as he caught up.  "And I think the smell's an improvement."  Turning toward her, he expected a teasing grin, or some sort of indication that she was just kidding.  So he was surprised to find her expression strangely serious.  Something unidentifiable flashed in those dark eyes just before she looked away.

TBC


	13. If you can't stand the heat...

**A/N:  **Ah yes, a new chapter already… this story is overtaking my life.  If you want the next part quick, review!  The more reviews I get, the more control my muse has over my body, and the less I have.  Just leave me enough so I can work in some bathroom breaks, and we'll both be happy.

**Friction**

**Chapter 13:  "If you can't stand the heat…"**

Squish, squish, squish.

Max tried not to laugh as she snuck a sidelong glance at the sewer sludge-encased Alec.  Ill-scented new outer coating, same sweet center.  She licked her lips unconsciously as she recalled her firsthand experience at just how sweet that center was.

_Hmm, too bad it's 'never' gonna happen again._

With a mental sigh, she replied, _Oh, you're back, are you?_

_I never left_, came the smug response._  You just didn't need me since you were doing such a great job of this yourself._

_Great job of what?_

She could almost envision the impatient rolling of the eyes.  _Of gettin' wit Alec!_

_What?!_  Indignation flashed through her._  I am _not_ gettin' wit Alec!_

_Not anymore, you're not.  That's why I decided it was time for me to speak up again._

Oh great, a voice inside her head was plotting to get her with Alec.  As if she weren't already having a hard enough time trying not to think about him that way.  And he wasn't helping any either.  Bastard.  Did he have to be so damn… _tempting_?

Well, he wouldn't be tempting _anyone_ anytime soon, she thought with satisfaction.  Eau de sewage wasn't exactly a scent that drove the ladies wild.

Had she done it intentionally—pushing him in?  Hmm, she hesitated to say, because she wasn't quite sure of that herself.  Maybe yes, in an accidentally on purpose sort of way.  All she knew was that one second she was reaching for him—though she couldn't exactly say why, or for what purpose—and then she'd jerked, to pull away.  And somehow, it had ended… well, the way it had ended.

Squish.  Squish.

This time she couldn't help it, and she emitted a sort of smothered gasp that caused him to turn toward her sharply.  "You better not be laughing at me," he said, eyes narrowed.

"Or what?" she snorted.  Okay, not very graceful—but damn, it was funny.

"Or I might have to do this."  He held out his arms and lunged forward, as if it to hug her.

"Alec, no!" she shrieked, ducking out of his reach just in time.  Her eyes were wide and her breath shallow, and Alec paused, frowning at her overreaction.  Just a little harmless horseplay, she told herself.  Nothing to freak out over.

"What's your—"

"Hold it right there!" a voice interrupted.

Both transgenics froze, and then slowly turned their heads to the source.  Two uniformed figures, maybe fifty feet away, stood with their weapons drawn and pointed at them.  Max groaned mentally.  Here they were, two genetically engineered, highly trained supersoldiers, and a couple of run-of-the-mill sector cops had gotten the drop on them because they'd been too busy acting like a pair of five-year-olds.

"Put your hands above your head," one ordered.

How humiliating.

She slowly raised her arms, Alec's actions mirroring her own.  "Hey officers," he said, grinning disarmingly, "we were just enjoying a little swim—"

"Shut up!  Turn around!" the second man snapped out.  They did as they were told.  "Now get down on your knees."

"Maybe I've watched one too many porn movie," Alec said under his breath so only Max could hear, "but this is kinda starting to freak me out."  She rolled her eyes at his words.  It could've been worse.  He could have said it was starting to turn him on.

She caught his gaze and signaled, waiting for his affirmation before acting.  Then moving with inhuman speed and agility, she spun around and flipped through the air, coming to land on the opposite side of the tunnel, on the other walkway, the stream of filthy water between her and Alec.  Speaking of whom, he'd used the distraction she had created to race up to men, and was now snatching one guy's gun from his hands, and kicking the other's out of his grasp with a foot.  He then used the butt of the gun he was holding to deliver a hard blow across the first man's forehead, immediately knocking him unconscious.  The other one he punched in the gut and sent him crumpling to the floor.

"Well look who's on his knees now, bitch."  He dropped the gun into the 'water', and reached for the man kneeling before him.  Somehow though, the cop managed to snake out an arm and snag Alec's legs, pulling them out right from under him.

Alec tumbled backward.

Right into the sewage.

Again.

"Sonuvabitch!" he exclaimed, this time as he only fell on his ass, most of his upper body untouched.  "That's it," he said, dragging himself to his feet.  "I was only gonna knock you out, but now—there's gonna be pain."  The other man's eyes suddenly filled with terror and he shrank back visibly as he watched the enraged, foul-smelling individual descend upon him.

"Alec," Max interrupted.  He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her, "We don't have time for this."

"But Ma-ax," he whined, "he pushed me into that sludge.  And I think it soaked right through my boxers this time.  Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that is?"  She remained unmoved by his plea.  "Fine," he said after a moment, looking considerably deflated.  "But at least let me do this."  He grabbed the man by his collar, delivering a punch that dazed him but didn't knock him unconscious.  Then he tossed him into the very slime into which he'd fallen himself earlier.

"You done?" Max inquired in a slightly bored tone.

"Unfortunately," he trudged toward her.  He sent one regretful look back over his shoulder then turned to her.  "What the hell were you doing this whole time?"

She gave a slight shrug.  "Watching.  By the way, we're even now."

Alec, who'd been trying to squeeze excess sewage water from his shirt, paused, glancing up at her.  "Even?"  An eyebrow raised in confusion.  "For what?"

"You were all bitchin' about how I got the last two guys; so I gave you these two."

"You _gave_ them to me?  Why thank you, ever so much," he drawled sarcastically.

"No problem."  She gave him a grin, then turned and indicated for him to follow.  "C'mon stinky, let's get you outta here."

"I thought you said you preferred this smell," he reminded her.

Wrinkling her nose, she replied, "The first time, yes.  The second turn was just overkill."

After a while longer of exploring the tunnels and spotting no more sector cops along the way, Alec let out a frustrated sigh.  "Look, Joshua is not down here.  If he ever was at all, he's long gone by now."  Max ignored him and kept walking, her gaze drawn by something up ahead.  "Max," he began exasperatedly.

"Look," she interrupted.  She pointed toward the sight that had caught her attention.  "Open manhole.  You know what that means?"

He nodded, "Someone's been through here."

She glanced toward him, a hopeful look on her face.  "Good chance it was Joshua."

"Okay," he conceded, "Then let's go after him.  But, before we do, one thing first…"

Pausing at the ladder, she looked at him.  "What?"

"A shower and a change of clothes."

"That's two things," she corrected, climbing the rungs.  He followed behind her, a little more careful with his steps since his shoes were still wet and had a tendency to slip.

"Fine, I'll take the shower and just go naked."

"I told you, I _didn't_ want to see that!" she snapped, pausing to glare at him.

Alec glanced back up at her, completely unperturbed by her little outburst.  "'The lady doth protest too much, methinks'," he responded smugly.

Max paused again, looking down once more, only to find herself staring at the top of Alec's head.  Alec's very grimy head at present.  "You've read Shakespeare?"

He returned her look, with about just as much surprise in his features as hers.  "Have you?"

"Yes, I have," she snapped out in irritation, pulling herself through the opening.  "Why does that surprise you?"

"Why does it surprise you that _I_ would have?" he returned, following her out.

"Cuz last I checked, ol' Will wasn't on the reading list at Manticore."

"So?" he shrugged.  "I've been outta Manticore for a while now."  He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as brown water dripped to his shoulders.

Max glanced at him incredulously.  "You've been reading Shakespeare these past few months?  And when exactly did you make time for that?"

He looked at her, his expression the very image of sincerity.  "Between my ballet lessons and the time I spent rescuing kittens trapped in trees."  Then he grinned, the gesture drawing focus away from the grime that covered him from head to toe, almost effectively making one forget there was anything out of place at all.

"You know, I'd smack you, but I don't wanna get my hand dirty."  She let out a small breath.  "Alright, I guess we should call Logan first."  Extending a hand toward Alec, she waited for him to hand her his phone.

"Uh…"

"What?"

He held up the little rectangular object, which appeared even more compact than usual.  "Guess it must've broken in the fall."

Pause.  "Probably the second one.  You did land kinda hard that time."

Alec sighed.  "Well, I guess it's back to the Stone Age.  Time of the pagers and payphones."

Max nodded, then, "Hey, I have a pager… and I use payphones."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "And what does that say about you?"

"Shut up."  But she couldn't resist tacking on, "I prefer pagers."

She saw him shove the mangled device back into his pocket.  "Yeah, then why are you always using my cell?"

"Didn't I say something about you shutting up?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_I can't believe I'm shopping for him_, Max griped to herself as she picked up a shirt and inquired at the price.  _I feel like his mother, or his wife.  Um… let's go with mother._

They'd checked into a motel—one a bit nicer this time, since Alec insisted he wanted to be able to use a towel without having to worry about whether he'd catch something—and then Max had left to first, call Logan and let him know where they were, and then to pick Alec up a change of clothes for once he'd showered.  She wanted to make this stopover as short as possible, no breaking for sleep this time.  The sooner this was over, the sooner she could escape Alec's incessant presence, and the sooner she could regain her sanity.

Oh, and rescue Joshua.

Kissing Alec!  What had she been thinking?!  After this was all past them, she was going to have a nice, long chat with Original Cindy.  She'd help her sort through this whole mess, and figure out how to reset the screws that had obviously come loose in Max's head.

God, was it hot in here, or just her?

She grabbed a pair of pants off a rack.  It didn't really matter what she picked out—he'd look good in anything.  _But he'd look even better in nothing_.

Oops.  She squeezed her eyes shut at the image the thought produced in her head.  _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think—_

Suddenly, she rushed to the cash register and tossed the clothes onto the counter.  "How much?"  She barely even remembered to stop and check the size, to make sure they actually would fit him.  As the clerk punched up the items, she quickly tossed the money down onto the counter and booked it out of there.

"You forgot your change!" the woman called after her, but Max didn't turn around.

_Motel, motel, motel.  Must get back to the motel_.

If asked about her trip back to the place afterward, she wouldn't have been able to provide a single detail of the account.  She was so entirely submersed in her goal that she tuned out everything around her.  In fact, it was something of a miracle she made it back in one piece, completely unscathed.

Pulling out the key Alec had given her before she left, she fumbled to unlock the door.  Strange how she could usually _pick_ locks with such ease, and now just getting the key into the little hole was almost a task beyond her.  Glancing down at her hands, she found them shaking visibly.  Well, that explained the difficulty.  Finally, after far too long, the door opened.  It was a good thing too, because she was a couple of seconds away from just kicking the damn thing in.  Two steps into the room, she slammed it shut behind her, tossed the bag in her hand, which skidded across the floor and landed on the other side of the room.  Next, the key dropped from her fingers, not far from the clothes.

In the bathroom the shower had stopped already, not even a second after she stepped into the motel room, the door burst open.  So sudden, she jumped slightly where she stood.  Alec, wrapped only in a towel about his waist, remained for a moment in the threshold, and they both stood still, staring, just staring at one another.  At any other time, this would have been completely unnerving.  At any other time, she would have told herself this was wrong—and then instructed herself to get the hell out of there.  At any other time.

Then he took a few abrupt, long strides toward her, gaze burning into hers, and somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that her own expression was probably no less intense than his.  He was breathing heavily, and so was she.  He was flushed, she only more so.  The liquid that ran over his body was water from his shower, but on her it was all sweat produced in her fevered state.

"Max…" he whispered, somewhere between a word and a purr.  His hand reached out, touched her cheek, a tentative gesture like gauze against her flesh, questioning, exploring.  And he was dripping water onto the floor, onto her from his arm, hair disheveled and darkened with dampness, eyes darkened with something else, "You're in heat."

Her own hands came up as well, one atop his, against her face, the other wrapping up around the back of his neck, over his barcode and up, fingers raking up into his hair.  She pulled herself against him, not caring that the wetness from his body was soaking into her own clothes, because truth be told, she wasn't going to need them much longer anyway.

"I know."  She did; she had figured it out, just too late.  Far, far too late, when all control was gone and long forgotten.  When she couldn't even remember why she'd wanted control in the first place.  And then his lips were crushing down on hers, and even that didn't matter.

They clung to each other with the desperation of desire, mouth seeking mouth, hands roaming feverishly, neither of any presence of mind to question what they were doing as they fumbled backward onto the bed.

TBC

**A/A/N:**  True Blue Healer -- Hey girl, what intuition you have!  You're the only one to have pieced it together… or at least the only one brave enough to share your hunch.  I was trying not to be too obvious because neither Max nor Alec had figured it out yet.  But clearly, they're not as observant as you!


	14. ... Get outta the kitchen!

**A/N:**  I was feeling a bit down today so I thought I'd wait on the next chapter.  And then I realized, hey, what better way to cheer myself up than to write?  It worked, kinda, and hopefully it didn't adversely affect the story.  And no, my mood had nothing to do with the cancellation of DA (although that certainly didn't help any).  I'm trying not to think too much about that, otherwise, I have a feeling I might just curl into a little ball on the floor and never get up.  What am I gonna do without my Alec fix?!  Like going through the season finale (the utterly-disappointing-in-its-lack-of-Alec season finale), wasn't bad enough!  I still can't believe it.  DA was the ONLY show I watched regularly—even through the thick and thin of this last heinous semester, I managed not to miss a single episode this season.  So here's my little plea to all you writers:  don't stop writing the fanfiction!  We must sustain ourselves, as well as each other, somehow.  Take the time you need to recover from this little shock, but do please come back.  I know I will.

**Friction**

**Chapter 14:  "… Get outta the kitchen!"**

Alec was in the shower when the scent hit him, heavy and overpowering, a sweet heady sensation that made him lose track of all previous thoughts.  It was the first thing he'd smelled other himself, since just prior to his first trip into the river of stench down in the sewers.  He knew instantly what it was—pheromones.  Or, more specifically, Max's pheromones.  She was in heat, and she was nearby.

He turned off the shower and pushed aside the curtains with one hand, the other reaching for a towel.  Unconsciously, he draped it about his waist even though, had he been aware of what he was doing, he might have questioned the need for it.  He wouldn't be wearing it much longer anyway.  But he wasn't aware, his attention so singly focused on what awaited him on the other side of the wooden barrier, that he thought nothing of it.

His hand wrapped around the doorknob, and for the briefest, minutest, fraction of a second, he hesitated.  Something nagged him at the back of his mind, something that begged for his attention.  But before he could stop to examine what, he pulled the door open.

There she stood, the reason behind his sudden inability to manage a single coherent thought beyond how quickly he could get her out of those clothes.  Her face was flushed, her breath coming heavily from between slightly parted full lips, and her chest moved visibly up and down with the effort.  She stood still, back straight, arms at her sides, as if not quite sure of what to do.  But it was her eyes that drew him of all things, wide and dark, darker than usual, her desire and confusion written clearly in them.

Before he realized what he was doing, he walked toward her, stopping only when he was close enough to reach out and touch her face, which he did.  Under his fingertips, her fevered flesh burned as her name tumbled from his lips, "Max…"  A soft purr with which he almost surprised himself.  But only almost because a part of him—a purely primal part that had lain dormant within him until this moment, and urged him presently to throw her onto the bed, rip off her clothes, and plunge himself deep inside her _right now_—told him this was right.  This was how it was done.  The thought was confirmed at the sight of the slight shiver that wracked Max's body as he spoke.  "You're in heat."

That primal beast wanted out; it wanted to skip the words, skip the foreplay, and get right down to business.

Then she was reaching up, one small hand cradling his as it rested on her cheek, the other caressing the back of his neck, raking through his hair.  She pulled herself flush against him, every curve of her body fitting perfectly against his, and whispered, "I know."

And then the beast took over.

He attacked her mouth with his own, nearly groaning aloud when she responded just as fervently.  His hands eagerly explored her body, every dip, every curve, every soft plane, smooth surface—while hers seemed intent on doing the same.  Touching, teasing, fondling, and generally driving each other wild.

Reaching down, Alec cupped her rear and pulled her up against the length of his body, using the opportunity to take them both down to the bed.  Strong, lean legs remained wrapped around his calves as he lay atop her, trying to work off her jacket.  With a slight arch of her back, she gave him the access he so desired, and he stripped the leather coat from her, tossing it impatiently to the side.

"Max," he groaned, or tried to at least.  Her mouth sucking on his tongue made it difficult to articulate the noise.

Her restless hands ran over his shoulders, down his back, up his arms again, while his own pried up her shirt.  Smooth flesh was all he encountered along the way, and soon he found himself cupping the heavy, bare flesh that she thrust further into his grasp.  His mouth left hers with a slight mewl of protest from her, which quickly dissolved into a whimper as he kissed her navel, running his tongue over the flesh, working his way upward.  Fingers gripped his hair tightly as he found the underside of one firm breast and explored the area with his lips.

Damn, she was burning up!  All passion and desire and fire, she was—

_In heat_.

The thought sobered him instantly, clearing his mind enough to allow him to see just what was happening, and the wrongness of it.  She was in heat, he assumed, for the first time around another X-series.  Even if she'd realized what was happening to _her_, she couldn't have known what effect it would have on _him_.  She'd missed the sex ed lessons back at Manticore—but he hadn't.  She wasn't making this decision consciously—it was the pheromones, her genes, her breeding instinct.

If he let this happen, she'd probably hate him in the morning, regardless of whatever defense of instincts and inability to resist that he might put up.  And if _she_ hated him, he'd have to hate himself.

Even though it was probably the single most difficult thing he'd done in his entire life, Alec pulled away.  Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and then regretting it immediately as her scent assaulted his nose, he sat up.

"Alec?"

Reopening his eyes, he saw Max was staring at him, confused, aroused, and frustrated, nearly panting for breath.  Her dishevelled state was testimony to what had very nearly happened between them—usually full lips swollen further from his rough handling, velvet hair splayed on the bed around her head, and shirt riding up around her breasts, revealing the caramel flesh of their undersides.

She reached for him, trying to pull him back down but he ducked his head to escape her grasp.  "No, Max."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at him incredulously.  "No what?"

"No, we can't do this."  He released a shaky breath, "You're in heat; you don't know what—Max!"  He yelped and leapt backward as her wandering hands found their way beneath his towel and unabashedly set to exploring.  With a thud he landed on the floor at the foot of the bed, his towel fortunately still in place.

But if anything, the fall served to temporarily lift the hazy fog that had been resettling in his mind.  His resolve strengthened.  Unfortunately, it did nothing to deter Max.

While he reoriented himself from his new position on the floor, she made her way to the edge of the bed, sitting up with a leg placed on either side of him, leaning forward, elbows on her knees.  "But I _want_ to," she said in a sultry voice, and a wicked grin uncurled on her lips.  "And I know you want to too."

They both glanced down at the tented front of his towel.  Well, of course he _wanted _to!  There was no even trying to deny that.  He just knew he couldn't—_they_ couldn't.

Max dropped to her hands and knees on the floor, trapping him beneath her.  Dipping her head forward, so their lips brushed as she spoke, she said, "Come on Alec, show me just how much you want to."

"Max," he whispered, but she silenced him immediately with his lips.  He was losing himself again, in the sweet softness of her mouth, the overwhelming scent of her arousal, the sensation of her hands running over him.  "No."  He pushed her back roughly.  "We can't."

Then he flipped them so he was on top, and she on her back.  She must not have registered his words, or thought much of the strength behind them, because she smiled at the sudden change and didn't resist as he push her hands above her head, pinning them there while he dragged the sheets off the nicely made bed.  Realization dawned in her eyes as he separated a thin cotton spread from the rest, twisted it rapidly, and then draped it about both wrists.

She wriggled slightly beneath him, and Alec bit his lip to keep from moaning aloud.  Attempting to slip her hands from out of his, she said, "Like your girls tied up... kinky.  However, _I_ like to keep my hands free—to explore and whatnot."

He immediately tightened his grip and knotted the sheet quickly with an impressive twist he knew would be next to impossible for her to undo without help.  Then he took the other end and wrapped it through the low brass rail at the end of the bed.

Eyes narrowing, Max bit out harshly, "Alec."  She tested the strength of the sheet and glared up at him.

"Sorry Max," he groaned, and he truly was.  "But we just can't do this."  Sorrier than she'd ever know.  "And if we don't stop now, we won't be able to stop period."

He stood abruptly, pulling himself away from her tempting body, trying to ignore just how tantalizing she looked, just how much she wanted him—as much as he wanted her.  "Alec," she moaned.  "Who said we had to stop at all?"

He was doing the right thing.

_But I'd rather be doing her._

Groaning again and running a hand over his face, he pushed the thought aside.  He decided ignoring her was the best and safest option.  Glancing around the room, he quickly located the clothes she had bought him and scrambled toward them.

"Alec!"  Max was still trying to gain his attention, but he was adamant in his decision not to hear her.  He yanked on the dark cargoes, pulling them up beneath the towel before removing the protective piece of cloth.  Next came his shirt, then socks and shoes, which he fumbled with several times before succeeding.

Dontthink, dontthink, dontthink.  Just get the hell outta this room! Finally, he was dressed, and although it took only a few seconds, it felt like forever.  He looked toward the door and then froze. To get to the door, he would first be required to walk by Max.  And walking by Max was a bad, bad idea.  Any attempt to do so would probably end with him on top of her, ridding both of them of their clothes.  That was exactly what he didn't want to do. 

But what other choice did he have?  The only way out of this room was through the door or the window—

The window.  He glanced toward it.  They were on the first floor—it'd be easy enough.  All he needed was the key to get back in.  But where was the key?  Where would Max have put it?  He looked down thoughtfully to ponder the question, and then there—there it was.  Right at his feet.

Grinning slightly, in relief, Alec reached down and picked it up.  "I'll be right back," he told Max, opening the window.

"What are you doing?  Where are you going?" she demanded frantically.

"Don't worry, I'll be back soon," he assured, climbing through the opening and heading through the parking lot.

"Alec!  Get your ass back in here and finish what you started!"  For an instant, he turned and began to walk back to the room, intent on doing just as she'd instructed.  But somehow, he managed to snap himself back to his senses, or what little he had left of them.

While attempt to subtly readjust his pants, both for comfort and reasons relating to public decency, he quickly ran to his destination, the nearest payphone.  As he reached the booth, he snatched up the receiver with great relief.

_Shit!_  He'd forgotten his wallet back in the room—no change.  Well, there was no way in hell he could go back there to get it, so instead he dialed zero and waited for the operator to connect him.

C'mon Cindy, please be home, please be home, please be— "'Lo?" 

"Will you accept a collect call from…"

"OC, it's me.  I need you!"

"Yeah, I take it," the familiar voice drawled.  After the operator had disconnected, leaving the pair to speak, she continued, "Hey sugah, you know Original Cindy don't play on that side o' the fence."

"What?" he asked distractedly.  It was getting stronger, the unbearable, instinctual need creeping up on him.  He didn't have much longer left.  "No, not like… it's Max."

Abruptly, her tone changed from light playful banter to serious.  "What?  What about Max?"

"Uh…" he stuttered, turning to stare at the motel, picturing her in his mind—lying there, waiting for him, waiting for him to take her—

OC's irritated voice cut off his thought sequence.  "Boy, if something's up with my boo, you bettah tell me right now.  I ain't foolin'."

Well, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to tell someone.  "It's um, well…" he began uncomfortably.

"Alec."  Beyond the warning tone to her voice was the fact that she'd called him Alec—something she rarely ever did.

"It's Max she's in heat and if you don't get here right away…" he burst out in a rush, then paused to let out a groan.  "If you don't get over here _soon_, I can't make any promises."

There was a slight pause at the other end of the line.  "You gonna take advantage of my girl while she's in her situation?" she asked darkly.

"No," he defended quickly, "I would never take advantage of her.  It's just, well," he let out a brief sigh, "Manticore made _both_ of us with that feline DNA…"

"And your DNA's reactin' to hers," Cindy completed with dawning understanding.

He placed his forehead against the dingy surface of the little booth.  "God, OC," he breathed, "I can _smell_ her even from here… I'm so hard I—"

"That's enough," she interrupted hastily.  "Damn, that's _more_ than enough.  Where y' at?"  Alec told her.  "Aiight.  I be there as soon as I can.  You just don't go do nothin' crazy 'n regrettable."

He nodded his head, a useless gesture, but his mind was beyond comprehending such minute details at this point.  "Hurry… please."

"As soon as I can," she assured.  Then she hung up the phone, and when the dial tone eventually came on, he followed suit.  Closing his eyes, he continued to lean against the wall of the booth.

_In the name of every good man has ever conceived of, please let her be here soon._

TBC

**A/A/N:**  Hopefully, a none-too-predictable turn of events.


	15. Watchdawg

**A/N:**  Okay, we're stepping a bit out of the usual pattern for this chapter.  I know at this point we should be flipping over to Max's POV, but with the whole heat thing being in full force, I couldn't seem to work it with either her or Alec.  So this one's kind of from OC's perspective.

**Friction**

**Chapter 15:  "Watchdawg"**

Tap, tap, tap.

"Hey buddy, you gonna be in there all day, or what?  There are other people in this world who need to use the pho—"

Alec's head snapped up, eyes narrowing together as he let out a growl that reverberated in his throat, voicing his displeasure at the interruption to his concentration.  The man stumbled back immediately, barely maintaining his balance as he tripped over his own feet in his haste.

"Uh, n-never mind pal…  Use it as long as you want.  I'll just get…"  He didn't finish the sentence, choosing instead to make a mad dash away from the feral man occupying the dirty booth.  He vaguely resembled a caged zoo animal whose door the caretaker had forgotten to lock.  All he needed to do was realize there was nothing keeping him from venturing beyond those metal bars, and all hell would break loose.

As soon as the intruder was gone, Alec placed his head back on his forearms, which rested up against one inside wall of the booth.

That was the scene to which Original Cindy arrived as she pulled up on her bike, panting for air after the frenzied ride over.  A large bag was slung over her back, which she readjusted as she propped her bike in the parking lot of the motel, before making her way over cautiously to Alec.

"Hey boo," she began, coming to a stop just out of arm's reach.  "You aiight?"  Alec, not looking up, groaned.  "I take that as a no."  She studied him a moment, taking note of his harsh breathing and disheveled state.  "Maybe you should hand Original Cindy the key t' the room, an' then get yoself someplace a nice safe distance away t' wait this bitch out."

He slowly pulled himself upright and, letting out a ragged breath of air, nodded.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the little key, attached to a tag that identified the room number, and held it out.

"Boo," OC told him as she struggled to get it out of his tight grasp, "you gonna have t' let go."

"Oh, right," he said in a voice slightly hoarse.  Still, it took a few moments longer before he managed to pry his fingers from the little plastic tag.

"Thanks," she said, closing her fist around the key and holding it nicely out of reach, just in case the urge to take it back became too strong for him to resist.  She moved aside to let him through.  "Now go."

He looked at her, and took a few steps out of the phone booth, pausing a moment to glance over his shoulder in the direction of the motel.

"No, don't look," she ordered, drawing his attention away from the source of his hesitation.  "Just go."

Alec nodded, took another deep breath, and resumed walking.  OC watched him go for a few seconds, before turning back to the motel.  "Room 6," she muttered, jogging to the front door of the place.  She didn't know what the deal was with Max, but if Alec was out here, and she was still in the motel, there must've been something keeping her girl from jumping the boy's bones.  She'd seen Max in heat before, and _that_ was hard enough to deal with; she was like a magnet for every creature of the three-legged variety.  Now put one magnet together with another—she had to commend the boy on his self-control.

OC let herself into the room and found herself staring at—

"Alec?"

True enough, there he was, seeming to have just re-entered the room through the window.  She decided to momentarily ignore the fact that Max was currently tied to the end of the bed with what appeared to be a cotton sheet.  Now was not the time to dwell on that.

"I thought I told you t' go," she said sternly.

"I thought I did," he replied innocently.  His voice sounded genuinely bewildered, even while a slight grin adorned his face, his gaze was trained solely on Max.  Max, who was staring back with that same grin, eyes dark with that careless desire she seemed to possess only during her heat.

"Alec," Max purred, ignoring her friend's presence entirely.  "Untie me."

The effect her words—or voice, it was hard to tell which exactly entranced the other X5 more—was obvious, as he drifted forward immediately to do her bidding.  Alec dropped to his knees before her, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss while his hands drifted to her wrists, blindly fumbling with the knots.

OC fought her initial instinct to try to pry the pair apart.  There are two things animals are most fiercely protective of, she remembered:  their food and their mates.  In that way, not so different from humans, she mused, or should I say human _males_?

She dropped the bag she'd brought with her to the floor, and fumbled through to get the object she required.

"Sorry t' interrupt, kids"—THWACK!—"but you be thankin' Original Cindy in the mornin'."

The hazy glaze of desire in Max's eyes momentarily subsided as she stared up at her friend over the still form of Alec, who lay slumped across her.  "You knocked him out," she stated incredulously, "With a… frying pan?"

OC regarded said frying pan smugly, as if it were a smoking gun and she had just made a particularly difficult shot.  "I woulda brought the baseball bat, but I was afraid I might actually end up hurtin' the boy."  She tossed the frying pan out of reach then grabbed Alec by the underarms, hauling him, with some difficulty, toward the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Max called after her, voice unsteady from frustrated desire.  "OC, bring him back here.  Cindy!"

"Sorry boo," she returned as she dropped Alec on the bathroom floor and returned to her bag to retrieve something else, "Like I said—fo' yo' own good."

"I don't want 'good'," Max argued.  "I want him!"  She frowned as OC pulled away from the bag, having found what she'd been looking for.  "What are you doing with those?" she inquired, regarding the handcuffs in her hands.

"Jus' makin' sure when soldier boy here wakes up, we don't have t' worry about him givin' in t' those biological urges."  She cuffed one wrist, and wrapped the chain through the pipes beneath the sink, before cuffing the second one.  "Momma always said come prepared."

"Cindy," Max said, taking a short breath of air and lowering her voice slightly.  "You're my friend—my _best_ friend—and I love you and all… but if you do not un-cuff Alec and let me go, I will have to kill you."

"Sure boo," the other woman returned, completely unperturbed by the threat, "But if yo' gonna kill me, you have t' get t' me first."  She glanced at her watch and took a seat by the door, looking fully prepared to remain there for as long as was necessary.  "Now, you just sit there an' behave, an' the three o' us will see this bitch through."  She watched as Max resumed her struggle against her binds, causing more damage to her own wrists than to anything else.

It wasn't long before Alec awoke, and he was none too pleased at finding himself in his new position.  After OC failed to respond to threats by either transgenic, the pair quieted, seemingly accepting her decision to keep them apart.  Well, they weren't talking to OC anymore, though they were certainly purring and growling at each other aplenty.  She rolled her eyes and considered dumping cold water on the two, but that would require going to the bathroom, and there was no way in hell she was getting within reaching distance of Alec.  She couldn't forget these were both trained killers here, and they were both so far gone from the effects of Max's heat that it was like looking at a pair of strangers—a pair of very desperate, very untrustworthy, oh so incredibly horny strangers.

"C'mon OC," Max pleaded after a brief period of silence, "Let me go.  I can control myself.  Promise."

OC snorted.  "You can control yoself.  Right.  Like you did with the rest o' em… like with Rafer?"

Whatever response Max might have had was cut off by a particularly fierce growl from Alec's side of the room.  "Rafer?" he said, drawing the attention of the two women.  "Is that how you two met?"

"Oh great," OC rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you gettin' all territorial here.  If you so much as look at somethin' like it's a l'il red fire hydrant," she warned, holding up an authoritative finger to stress her point, "Original Cindy won't hesitate to put the smackdown on yo' genetically engineered ass."

"I think it's kinda sexy," Max put in, a sly smile adorning her lips.  Alec met her gaze, returning her expression with a cocky grin of his own.

A look of mild horror flitted across OC's face as she protested, "Boo, you did _not_ say that."  But the way the two were looking at each other, it was clear she had—and that she had meant it.  OC shook her head.  "Okay, I'm gone let it pass—the heat be fryin' up yo' brain cells an' all.  But when this bitch is ovah, you an' me sittin' down for some serious girl time an' re-familiarizin' ourselves with the whole women's lib movement, aiight?"

She sighed and shook her head as she realized her friend wasn't listening.  Fine, though she didn't care now, there'd be plenty of time for Max to regret that remark—and everything else—when this thing was over.

After another hour or so of listening to their purrs and growls, and graphic descriptions of what they wanted to do to each other, OC had had enough.  "Look you two—I've got me a fryin' pan."   She held it up in display.  "I ain't afraid t' put it t' use.  So no mo' talkin'."  She stood as she gave them both a stern glare.  "Now, I am goin' outside t' place a quick order fo' some takeout, an' if I come back in here t' find you two anywhere but in yo' respective corners, there's gonna be hell t' pay.  That undahstood?"

Begrudgingly, they both nodded.

True to her word, she returned a few minutes later, to find everything as she'd left it.  "Good," she said, giving a nod and a smile as she surveyed the room.  "Now we gone wait here, quietly, fo' the food t' get here, an' if I have t' hear anymo' of yo' verbal foreplay, I'm gone have t' put Mr. Fryin' Pan t' use."

About five minutes into their silent wait, Alec began to bang his head back against the bathroom counter.  With mild concern, OC raised an eyebrow, watching him repeat the motion rhythmically, eyes squeezed tightly shut.  She glanced at Max but found her resting her own head back on the bed while staring up at the ceiling.  Her lips were moving silently, and following her gaze, OC realized she was counting the spots on the ceiling.  Well, it looked like they had decided to move onto the 'distraction' phase.

An abrupt knock drew her attention away from the pair, and pulling open the door, she found herself face-to-face with a bored-looking young man holding up a brown paper bag.  "Delivery," he intoned uninterestedly.  Then he glanced over OC's shoulder and his eyes widened slightly.

"How much?" she inquired, pulling out the bills.

"Um," he said, quickly looking back to her, "Fourteen… seventy-nine."  His gaze flitted back to the scene behind her.

OC handed him the money and took the bag.  Then she gave a cursory glance over her shoulder before turning back to the delivery boy.  "We havin' a threesome," she explained nonchalantly, and then gave him an appraising look.  "You welcome t' join, if you want."

His widened even further, if possible, his mouth flapping open and closed without uttering a single word.

She leaned in closer just a little, lowering her voice for dramatic effect.  "But I gotta warn you, you bettah be able t' take a l'il pain."  She sent another backward glance, this one specifically in Alec's direction.  Alec still wasn't looking at them, but at least he'd stopped banging his head.  Max was watching the scene with mild interest.  "Aiight, more than just a l'il.  Me an' my girl ain't so bad… but our friend there, he likes it kinda rough."  Then she grinned at him, pulling back, "So what you say, sugah?  You game?"

The boy shook his head fiercely, backing up a couple of steps before turning and leaving at a full-out run.  "What?"  OC stepped out into the hallway to watch his departure, "Aiight, but you know where t' find us if you change yo' mind."  As soon as he was out of sight, she burst out laughing and returned to the room.

Closing the door behind her, she found Max staring at Alec, "I don't mind it a little rough."

His eyes popped open suddenly and he smirked at her.  "Now why did I have a feeling you'd say that?"

"Cuz you two fools so damn predictable," OC broke in.  "Now shut yo mouths while I try t' eat my dinnah.  I'd offer y'all some, but, well… I ain't untyin' you an' I really ain't up fo' the whole spoon-feedin dealio.  Consider it yo punishment fo' makin' Original Cindy have t' listen t' y' all night."

A couple of hours after finishing her meal, OC let out her first yawn.  Max and Alec had been relatively quiet now, both with their eyes closed, and appearing as if asleep or in deep concentration.  Maybe they were trying the whole astral projection thing.  She grinned at the image of the pair on some metaphysical plain of higher existence, doing it like a couple of wild monkeys.

Max's eyes opened slowly and she watched her friend quietly before pleading, "C'mon Cindy, my wrists are sore."  She raised her arms slightly, holding up her reddened, bruised wrists for display.  "See?"

OC shook her head.  "You'll heal.  'Sides, you could just stop rubbin' them against the damn sheet."

"Well, I would rather be rubbin' myself up against something else, but"—she gave a slight pout—"_you_ won't let me."

Alec moaned at her words.  "Oh god, Max."

"Didn't I tell you t' keep yo' mouth shut?" OC snapped.  "An' when the hell you become so religious?  Can't count the number o' times I heard those words come out o' yo' mouth today.  Is this all it take t' convert you soldier boys?"  Then she turned her gaze back to Max.  "An' you stop provokin' him.  It's not gone do either of y'all any good, so might as well not make it any harder."  Alec groaned again, causing her to roll her eyes.

The next few hours passed torturously slow for the trio—Max and Alec because her heat was reaching its peak, and OC because she had to use the bathroom… really, really bad.

"OC, please," Max pleaded, the desperation in her voice too strong to ignore.  Her face was flushed, her breathing heavy as if she'd just been working out strenuously, and her damp hair stuck to her forehead.  She was sweating too much; she probably needed water to make up for the amount she was losing.  But OC was afraid to get close enough to give her any—the more desperate they became, the more dangerous they were.  "I need this, can't you see?  I _want_ this."

"Now boo," she said apologetically, "you know Original Cindy only be doin' this t' keep y'all from doin' somethin' you end up regrettin'."

Max shook her head fervently, and even as she spoke, her wrists were unconsciously rubbing back and forth against the sheet that bound her, trying to wear it down.  "I _won't_ regret this, OC.  I won't."  She let out a moan, "_Please_."

The other woman shook her head and sighed quietly.  "Aiight, say I believe you.  Say I believe my girl when she says she wants this an' she won't be havin' no mornin' aftahs when she back t' her normal, revved-up supergirl self… you evah think maybe you ain't the one I be worried about here?"

Gaze narrowing slightly, Max glanced toward Alec.  His eyes were closed again, but his breathing was shallow and ragged, a grimace on his features as if he were in pain.  And in a way he was, just as she herself was.  She frowned.  "You don't think he wants to—_really_ wants to?" she asked quietly, uncertainly.

OC shrugged, "He the one who called me.  You figure it out."

That quieted her.  After that particular conversation, she didn't say ask to be set free again.  The hours passed, slowly, but silently.  Not a peep was heard out of Max, and certainly none out of Alec.  When afternoon passed into night, and night into morning, OC sat, bleary-eyed and weary.  Even through her yawning and incessant eye rubbing, she could sense a certain shift in the air, a slight lessening of tension.  It was Alec who spoke first, in a hoarse but controlled voice, "You can let us go now."

She paused uncertainly.  "You sure?  No jumpin' each other soon as I do?"

Max replied, quietly, "No, we're fine.  It's over."

She watched them skeptically, but complied.  Discomfort she had expected, after what had almost just happened, and all that surely _had_ happened before she got there.  But there was something about the tension in the room, and the seeming lack of relief, that had her puzzled.  She couldn't help but feel as if she were missing something…

Instead of dwelling on that thought though, she attempted to hurry Alec out of the bathroom.  Mimicking Max's earlier words, she said, "Boo, you my friend an' all, but if you stand between me an' that toilet for a second longer, I'm gone have t' kill you."

TBC

**A/N:**  Alright, I've been getting a split reaction on the whole deal with M&A _not_ having sex while she's in heat.  The thing is, I didn't want to write a story about the consequences of that—there are already plenty of great stories out there that deal with the issue so much better than I could hope to (my personal favorite is Ashantai's "Kiss the Stars").  But this way I've thrown them for a little loop that'll complicate their relationship in a different way.


	16. The truth… Who needs the truth?

**A/N:**  Glad you all liked the last chapter, though you kind of overwhelmed me with your response!  I only hope I don't disappoint with the rest.  For those of you who are wondering, five more chapters—and a possible epilogue—to go.

Hope7 --- Girl, where have you been?  Yes, the axe came down in the eleventh hour, when they announced the fall lineup.  But we haven't given up yet—go sign all those petitions, send in your emails and postcards.  The headquarters are set up at http://adinfinit.net/danation/

**Friction**

**Chapter 16:  "The truth…  Who needs the truth?"**

When OC went into the bathroom, she left the pair behind to an awkward silence.  So what do you say to someone you almost had sex with, due to your genetic makeup, which results in occasional periods during which your libido goes completely out of control?

'Sorry I jumped you and all, but you understand it wasn't me—it was the pheromones.  Oh, you do?  Of course, they affected you as well, didn't they…  Speaking of which, thank you for displaying a little more restraint than me by choosing to keep your pants on.'

Well, metaphorically speaking, that is.  After all, he hadn't been wearing pants to begin with.  Just a towel.  One itty-bitty towel.  An itty-bitty towel she had reached beneath to…

A unwelcome flush rose to her face, and she quickly whirled around, using the guise of gathering her discarded coat from the floor to duck her head behind the protective curtain of her hair.  _Distraction, distraction—think of something else!  Anything else!  Think about… Normal._

Abruptly, she brought up the image of his pinched face:  the beady little eyes focused in a perpetual glare, watching, always watching, like a near-sighted hawk; those twisted lips, permanently adorned in a grimace of distaste, as if he were not so secretly disgusted by all those around him.  And not to mention all that crap that spewed out of those lips.

'Missy, miss…'

'So you've finally decided to grace us with your presence…'

'Get back to work you degenerates…'

'Bip, bip, bip.'

That helped, kind of.  Well, it depended on one's definition of 'help'.  It certainly distracted.

She shrugged the jacket on, though it didn't make her any more comfortable, what with her already increased body temperature.  When she'd finally managed something that vaguely resembled nonchalance, she turned back around.  Alec was busy evaluating his own jacket, which he had managed to gather from the bathroom, along with his other soiled clothes, before OC pushed him out.

He wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust.  "I don't think this is salvageable."

She didn't reply, merely studied him in what she hoped was a discreet manner, a question weighing heavily on her mind.  Alec dropped the clothes in the garbage can—which wasn't nearly large enough to support the mess—and turned toward her, arms crossing over his chest.  "What?"

Max fiddled with the collar of her coat, as if having them perfectly set was suddenly the most important thing in the world.  "How…" she began, but hesitated, sending him a sideways glance.  When she found him watching her intently, she dropped her hands and consciously straightened, squaring her shoulders.  "How is it that you could resist?"  She kept her expression neutral and her face carefully schooled so it was clear she was merely asking for information, not consolation.  "I mean, I couldn't.  And not just this time, but even before, with… 'normal' guys."  Even a day earlier, she would never have considered making such an admission, but considering OC's comment about Rafer, it didn't really matter now.

He gave an indifferent shrug, and broke their gaze, putting his wallet and whatever else he'd managed to rescue from his other clothes, into his pockets.  "I've just had more experience."  Then, as if realizing how that'd sounded, he glanced back up quickly, eyes just the faintest bit too wide.  "Not _experience_, experience… I mean," he shook his head, "Never mind what I meant.  The truth is it just affected you before it affected me, and I still had some control.  Enough to get my ass out of there."  He shook his head and glanced away again.  "Of course, if OC hadn't shown up when she did, it wouldn't have mattered much in the end."

The toilet flushed in the background, and Max nodded absently at his reply.  She realized then that she'd been staring at him, for quite a while, and she yanked her gaze from his face.  _Look at something else, anything—oh, that lovely door!  Isn't that so much nicer to look at than Alec?_  Um, right.

This was strange, and inexplicable.  Her heat was like a fever, a sudden and all consuming, disorienting assault; but then it broke, just as abruptly as it started, and it was over.

Like that—done.

No residual feelings, except maybe guilt and shame… but no more symptoms.

All thoughts had while in heat were excusable; she could not be held accountable for them afterward.  Things were very simple then.  Black and white.  Everything fit into one of two distinct categories:  things hump-able, and things not hump-able.  But when it ended, it was like a cold bucket of water spilling over her world and bringing in waves of color.  Complicating the simple dichotomy of things by further subdivision, such as that of things hump-able into things that should be humped, and things that should not.  For instance, Alec:  Hump-able.  But not to be humped.

So what was the deal here?  Her fever had broken, so why was she still thinking about him?  There wasn't a second round coming on, was there—and this just a lull, like the eye of a storm?  It had never happened like that before, but her Manticore-designed genes tended to sway toward unpredictability.  Someone back there must've had a twisted-ass sense of humor.

Holding the back of her hand up to her forehead, she tried to gauge her temperature.  "Max?"  She dropped her arm quickly and looked over to find Alec staring at her strangely.  "You alright?"

She nodded.  "Yeah, fine."  Though she sounded anything but.

He watched her for a second then, seemingly satisfied with the answer, turned away to lean against the wall and wait for OC.

"Alec?"  He glanced back at her immediately, eyebrows raised questioningly.  But before she could continue, the bathroom door burst open.

"Good gawd," OC drawled, oblivious whatever she was interrupting, "Remind me, if we evah in this situation again, not t' cuff anyone t' the bathroom.  Gotta admit, that ain't the brightest idea Original Cindy evah had."  Alec chuckled and Max forced a grin.

Cuffs and frying pan in hand, OC began to gather all her supplies back into the bag she'd brought with her.  "Oh, an' I called Logan while I's out orderin' the food yestahday."

Max froze.  She turned, stiffly, to her friend.  "What?  What did you tell him?"

OC paused briefly, meeting her eyes as she spoke.  "I wouldna said nothin' boo, but this bein' 'bout gettin' Joshua back an' all—I had t' explain why you two wouldn't be followin' no leads fo' the rest o' the day… so I told 'im you's in heat."

"_What?_" Max croaked.

"I had t' tell 'im somethin'.  I tried puttin' it off as just a 'situation', but he wuddn't buyin' that.  Actually, he kinda guessed it 'imself."  She shrugged.  "Aftah that, I figahed no point in lyin' now.  I told 'im Alec called me down here, but that's all.  So y'all can explain the rest whichevah way you wanted."

Max ran a hand through her hair, expelling a frustrated breath of air.  "But Logan's supposed to believe me and Alec are a thing."  OC sent a look in Alec's direction, and she explained, "Yeah, he knows what's up, and he's agreed to play along.  But," she continued, "how are we supposed to explain why we would've needed you down here?"

"Threesome?" Alec suggested with a cheeky grin.

OC scoffed.  "If that were the case, boo, all you'd be doin' here is watchin'."

He was quiet a moment, before nodding thoughtfully.  "I'm alright with that."

"Guys!" Max snapped irritably, drawing their attention back to her.

OC gave her an apologetic look as if to say, 'sorry I stooped to the same level as a _man_.'  Raising her dark eyebrows, she suggested, "You could tell 'im y'all couldn't go at it cuz you's afraid o' gettin' knocked up an' all."

Startled, Max realized that was a very real possibility, one that neither she nor Alec seemed to have considered at the time, since there were already plenty of other reasons not to go through with it, and they had been willing to overlook all those at the time.  She felt a sudden rush of relief that what had almost happened, _hadn't_.

"Or," Alec intoned, interrupting her silent reflections, "you could tell him the truth.  That's a novel idea, isn't it?"

Max frowned at him.  "In case you've forgotten, there was actually a reason for letting him believe the lie in the first place."  Which was to protect Logan, right?  Protect Logan at all costs.  "Besides, I thought you'd decided to go with this.  You're not changing your mind, are you?"

Alec refused to meet her gaze for a few long, long seconds, and she briefly began to fear that he would answer 'yes'.  Maybe what had happened between them—and what had _almost_ happened, but not quite—had somehow irrevocably changed their relationship.  Maybe he wasn't comfortable playing that part anymore?  Well, to be fair, he hadn't seemed comfortable playing it in the first place, but he had agreed—in a sort of, if not outright refusing, then by default agreeing.  Or had she kind of forced him into it?  She vaguely recalled something along the lines of, "You owe me that much"…  Whatever, the past was the past, no need to get into the minute details of it.

But then he lifted his head and glanced directly at her, expression betraying nothing.  "No, I'll do it, if you want me to."

"Good," she said, nodding in satisfaction.  Then she turned back to OC, who was watching the exchange silently.

"What now?" her roommate inquired when she found Max's eyes on her.

"Well, I think we should get some food," she replied, feeling her stomach's agreement, "Then you go back home and we pick up this search."  She looked to Alec for confirmation, but he just gave a shrug.

"Your call," he said unhelpfully.

Max fought the urge to snatch up OC's frying pan and smack him upside the head.  What was his problem?  She was in the same boat as him, maneuvering through the same rapids of discomfort and awkwardness.  So if she could deal, why couldn't he?  At least set aside their differences until this little ordeal was over.  _Must be a male thing.  Cindy definitely has the right idea… well, except the sex part._

Alec held the room key and once the trio had piled out into the hallway, he locked the door.  Then, without another word, he headed off toward the lobby to check out.  Max made to follow, but felt her arm in someone's firm grasp, holding her back.  She turned and found herself staring into OC's concerned eyes.

"Aiight," she said, seeing that Alec was far enough ahead for her to speak without being overheard.  "Wassup between you two?  I'm sensin' major tension here."

Max rolled her eyes.  "I was in heat.  Remember—you were there?  You had to hit him over the head with a frying pan."

Releasing Max's arm, OC put on her no-nonsense face.  "There's mo' t' this than that.  Original Cindy ain't blind—s'plain as day fo' all t' see."

Fortunately, Max was saved from her friend's sometimes annoying characteristic insightfulness by Alec's impatient call.  "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Max answered, giving OC a helpless, though internally grateful, look.

"Yo' tellin' me latah."  Hmm, she was probably right about that; OC could wheedle out just about any piece of info out of her.  But the beauty of procrastination is… you don't have to think about it right now.

"You got it."  She even added in an overly bright smile for effect.

"Ladies…"

OC took the lead, heading toward their impatient companion.  "She said we was comin' so cool yo' jets.  Some o' us are workin' off o' sleep deprivation here."

"Cindy, my friend," Alec tossed an arm over the dark woman's shoulders, "I, for one, do appreciate the value of sleep.  Others—others with a little shark DNA in their blend—may not see eye-to-eye with me on that view, but rest assured, I do feel your pain."

"Hey, get yo' fool hands outta there!"  OC swatted at his arm as he reached into the bag slung across her back.  But it was too late; he'd already retrieved what he was looking for, and he tossed the silver handcuffs to his other hand, dangling them just out of her reach.  Meanwhile, Max shook her head at their antics, and sidestepped the pair to get to the exit.

"C'mon OC, I'm sure you have at least another set at home"—something about the expression on her roommate's suggested that Alec was probably right—"and you know what they say about sharing."

"What?" OC challenged with a glare, following him through the door.

Alec faltered.  "Um, I don't know, actually.  Something about it being goo—"  He cut off as he walked smack into Max's still figure.  In an irritated tone, he bit out, "Hey Max, what's the holdup?"

But she wasn't listening to him; she was staring straight ahead, her attention focused on their surroundings, the suddenly not so empty parking lot.  "Aw shit," she heard muttered behind her.

"452… and 494.  What a pleasure to see you both again."

TBC


	17. Knight in Shining Exoskeleton

**

Friction 

**

  
Chapter 17: "Knight in Shining Exoskeleton" 

  
  
"I suggest you put your hands up in the air," White instructed, tipping his gun in an upward motion. Then he gestured to the dozen or so agents surrounding them, each with their respective weapons drawn and aimed at the trio. "If you want to keep the number of holes in your bodies down to the original." 

They did as they were told, Alec with his handcuffs—yeah, that's right, _his_ handcuffs; as far as he was concerned, OC had lost her claim on them—still dangling from his fingers. "Uh… this does not look good," he muttered discreetly so only the two women realized he was speaking. 

"That's an undahstatement an' a half," OC replied softly. She was eyeing the gathered troupe warily, but remained admirably calm, considering the circumstances. After all, this was all new to her, being dragged into the middle of a transgenic-secret government agency banded to wipe out transgenics and all evidence of them standoff. 

"No," he corrected, "I'm talking about you, me, Max, the handcuffs, and a motel." White was barking out instructions to his agents, and the group used the distraction as cover to continue their conversation. 

"We're facing down a dozen loaded guns and itchy trigger fingers, and you're worried you look like a pervert?" Max hissed through clenched teeth. 

"Besides," OC added, "What're _you_ upset 'bout? You come out lookin' like the stud; _I'm_ the one with a reputation t' protect." 

"Yeah, you're right," he said, realization drawing and lending a blend of relief and to his voice. Strange how he hadn't noticed it himself—must've been the whole facing imminent death thing that threw him off. At least if he died now, he'd go down a semi-legend. Caught him coming out of a motel with two hot chicks and a pair of handcuffs. That was something of a consolation. 

Then Max decided to bring down the wet blanket on his little celebration, drawing his attention back to reality of their situation and the biggest drawback of his little fantasy—the fact that it would require the whole dying step first. "Guys! We need to concentrate." 

The armed men surrounded them in a semicircle and began closing in, slowly and cautiously. "Step out into the open, side-by-side," White ordered. "And nice and slowly, with no tricks, or I'll shoot your little friend there." He trained his gun on OC, and the corner of his mouth curled up. "I'm guessing she's not a transgenic—so she won't be outrunning any speeding bullets." 

Alec felt Max tense in front of him, and he whispered a single abrupt reminder, "Max!" _Damnit, keep a level head._ He knew as well as her that White wasn't bluffing—after last week's incident with Annie, Alec held no illusions about any prevailing sense of morality or humanity subsiding within Ames White—but emotions would impede, not help them here. Fortunately, she seemed to realize this as well, and he felt her relax slightly before she stepped forward, as per White's instructions. Once they had eased into the center of the circle, they were ordered to stop. 

"On your knees." 

Alec resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. What was it with these guys and their guns that made them all favor that approach? _He'd_ never used that line before… well, um, not in _this_ context… and he'd held plenty of people at gunpoint. 

The two transgenics hesitated, and OC waited, following their lead. "Come on," White spat impatiently. 

A screech of tires, and thirty-five hundred pounds of metal suddenly barreling toward them in the narrow expanse of the parking lot caught everyone's attention, and kept them from having to follow through with the directions. The vehicle drove directly at White and his goons, who all leapt aside, their attention temporarily diverted from their prey. Max and Alec used the distraction to duck out of White's line of sight, grabbing each of OC's arms and taking her with them. 

Then the truck pulled an abrupt U-turn, imprinting streaks of black rubber on the pavement and almost spinning right out of control. Only sheer dumb luck—and possibly, just possibly, something to do with driver experience—saved it from flipping right onto its side. The vehicle slammed to a stop right in between the two groups, dividing the trio from White's group. The passenger side window came down and Logan's face appeared, "Get in!" 

Oh, how perfect. 

_What are you talking about_, the voice of reason argued within him. _Did you want White to get you? Weren't you looking for an escape route?_

Yeah, but did it have to be Logan, the perfect image of humanity, Max's knight in shining… exoskeleton? 

Max took the front seat while Alec shoved OC into the back before quickly following her himself. Already seated at the other end was Asha, who'd lowered her own window. She hurled something out just as Alec slammed the door shut. "Smoke bomb," she explained, grinning, to their questioning looks. Logan was already pulling a sharp left, heading out of the lot by the time the gray cloud began to consume the area. 

"Hey, you better close your window," Alec advised, reaching across the span of the Aztek's backseat to do it for her. It wouldn't be much protection from the bullets, but at least the glare of the sun off the glass would keep them from being easy targets. But his motion halted, incomplete, when he felt a sharp pain explode in his left bicep. Shocked, he fell back, clutching his arm tightly. "Fuck! I don't believe it!" he exclaimed. 

OC glanced over, eyes widening as she saw the splatter of blood that had already stained the sleeve of his shirt, while Asha quickly finished raising the window. "You okay, boo?" 

"No, I'm not okay!" he replied with an expression of disbelief. "What are the chances that bullet would've come through that window the _exact moment_ I was reaching forward to close it?" The two women in the backseat shared blank looks, and Alec elaborated, "Don't you see? Out of all those guns being fired back there, _one_ bullet manages to find its way through the window and into the car—and it hits _me_. Me, who's sitting on the _other_ side of the damn vehicle, with two people who should have, theoretically, served as barriers. The only opening I gave was when I leaned forward, and in that very instant, a bullet just _happens_ to find its way through the very window I was attempting to close. Look at the probabilities!" He shook his head, not sure whether he was more frustrated with his stunningly poor luck, or the fact that no one seemed to think anything of it. "I swear it's like this cosmic conspiracy—someone, somewhere out there, really wants me playing the whole injured and vulnerable role!" 

"Yeah, too bad it's not the strong and silent role," Max tossed back over her shoulder. 

Alec leaned forward slightly, his mouth drawing into a frown. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means suck it up soldier," she said unsympathetically, "You're not the only one here to ever take a bullet." She turned in her seat to face him as best as she could, considering he was seated behind her. "In fact, I seem to recall taking one just the other day." 

"That was just a graze—" 

"Ha! So _now_ you admit it." 

"I admitted it earlier too." 

"Yeah, in your sarcastic, 'just humoring Max' tone." 

"Oh right, and that must be your 'being a bitch' tone." 

"What did you just call me?" 

"What, do you need me to spell it out for you again?" 

"You can try, but you remember what happened that last time you did." 

"You tell me to get over it, and then you keep bringing it back up!" 

"I wouldn't have to keep bringing it up if you'd just—" 

"Children, please," Logan interrupted impatiently. "As much as I hate to intrude upon your bickering, we're currently being followed by four vehicles loaded with heavily armed individuals looking to kill us." They all glanced over their shoulders to confirm Logan's observation. "Unfortunately, I don't think we're going to be able to just out-drive them, so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated right about now." 

"Logan's right," Max agreed. Alec rolled his eyes, mimicking her words silently. OC smacked him, lightly, across the stomach and he turned an innocent expression in her direction. "Do you have any more weapons?" he inquired, turning toward Asha. The blond shook her head apologetically. 

"All I got on me is my gun. That smoke bomb just happened to be in my bag." 

Alec arched an eyebrow as he appraised her. "You 'just happen' to carry around explosives in your bag? What, for those last-minute emergency escape situations?" 

She shrugged. "It's a thing." 

"I have my gun too," Logan added from the front seat. "But that's it." 

"Great," he replied, "So you burst into this situation completely unprepared, with no supplies whatsoever." He continued before they a chance to waste any time with their feeble defenses. "Well, out-driving them is the only chance we got right now, unless someone wants to attempt to imprint upon Agent White the importance of a 'fair' fight. But something tells me he's not gonna go for that." 

"So, basically what you're suggesting is exactly what Logan said we _can't_ do," Max surmised. 

"You have a better suggestion, cuz I'm not hearing any," he returned. Max muttered something angry and inarticulate, which he, as the bigger… transgenic, chose to overlook. He scooted over, trading seats with OC, and leaned forward to prop his head between the pair up front. "Pull a right here," he ordered abruptly, and Logan tugged sharply on the steering wheel. Nice to see _someone_ around here was actually willing to do as he told without double-guessing him—even if it was Logan. Tires screeched, but the Aztek made the turn. Unfortunately, so did the four other vehicles following them. A few more turns brought them nothing, other than a few additional scratches to the already battered surface of the vehicle. 

Logan glanced at Max and said, "You know, this baby's taken a lot of abuse since I met you." 

Max grinned. "Ah, she's tough—she'll survive." 

Alec repressed the urge to vomit. There she went again, running back to the safety of what she didn't have with Logan. Not that it should matter to him though, seeing as there had been nothing between _them_ in the first place, nothing that couldn't be explained away by the heat. But now wasn't the appropriate time to dwell on it… hell, he wasn't sure there ever _would_ be an appropriate time to dwell on it, seeing as he had firmly decided to forget the whole incident. Easier said than done. 

"Okay," he said, pulling his mind back to the situation at hand, "now turn… here!" Logan complied, but again, they were followed. Alec sat back, letting the other man choose the route for a while. "We have to keep out of the open areas," he said, looking at the wide road they were currently traveling. "If they flank us, we're through." 

"I know, damnit!" Logan returned, fighting the steering wheel to get another turn. 

"Alec, ease up," Max snapped. "Can't you see he's trying?" 

"Yeah, well, his 'trying' is not going to keep us from getting killed, Max." She shot him a glare and he tried to ignore it, clenching his jaw and staring straight ahead. Silly him, he'd thought hurt feelings and bruised egos were supposed to be overlooked in these life-and-death situations. Apparently Max disagreed. 

Suddenly, a vehicle pulled up alongside them on the driver's side, and Alec feared that his very prediction had just come true. However, he quickly realized, the beat up van driving beside them _definitely_ did not belong to White or his crew. The windows were blocked—as if painted over—making it impossible to see inside. Then the passenger side pane of glass eased down, and a familiar face greeted them. 

Asha let out a slight yelp. _Oh right, they haven't been introduced, have they?_ Alec thought as he reached past her to lower the window. "Joshua!" he greeted. 

"Alec! Follow Joshua," their friend instructed. The van sped up, taking the lead, though remaining slightly to the side. Then Alec noted why. The back window of the van was propped up, just minutely, giving a couple of inches of space through which guns had been set and aimed at their pursuers. Though he couldn't make out much more of the shooters than their eyes, as they watched, a few rounds were fired, several of which found their targets, putting holes in their enemies' vehicles. One shot struck a tire, and a truck spun out of control, just barely avoided by the two still driving behind it. 

"One down, three t' go," OC observed. 

At least Joshua's friends, whoever they were, seemed to have a destination in mind, as they maneuvered the streets with purpose. "Hey," Asha piped up, studying their changing surroundings as their guide slowed slightly to make the tighter turns, "Isn't this—" 

"Terminal City," Max completed. 

They followed the van up a slight ramp, stopping in an enclosed area lined by worn and deteriorated buildings. The sun's light was obstructed here, the shadows lending a sort of pseudo-night at the height of the day, and only further enforcing the air of forbidden and unwelcome that surrounded the deserted blocks. 

Then they stopped. No one moved, no one getting out of either vehicle, and soon enough the three remaining trucks from White's envoy pulled up behind them. The men inside quickly sprang out, taking position, guns raised and directed in their direction. 

"Shit, I hope Josh had more to his plan than this," Alec muttered, glancing from the mess behind them to the still van up ahead. 

"Alright," White announced loudly, his voice carrying into the closed confines of the truck, "If you surrender right now, everyone not transgenic can go free. Otherwise—all bets are off." 

There was silence in the inside of the Aztek, then Max turned to Alec and shrugged. "Well, let's go." 

"No Max," Logan quickly interjected. "This is White we're talking about. Even if you do as he says, what are the chances that he'll actually keep up his end of the deal?" 

"Yeah, but what other choice do we have?" she returned. "If we don't then no one has a chance." She glanced back again. "Alec?" 

Alec shrugged. "Sure, why not? Already have one bullet in me—what's the big deal with picking up a few more?" No, it wasn't the thought of picking up a few more bullets that was making his heart beat faster, and his stomach feel queasy, in a way that it never used to before, even when he was going out on his missions for Manticore. It was the thought that Max would be there right alongside him, in as much danger as him—more even, because she seemed to have piqued White's interest specifically. 

"That's the spirit," she replied with a half-smile. After sending one last fleeting glance in Logan's direction, she opened her door. 

Alec made to follow through his own door, when OC stopped him. "Just cuz you 'surrenderin' don't mean you can't put up a fight once you out there," she told him, giving him a significant look. "Don't be worryin' 'bout us. If he gone let us go, he'll let us go. Othahwise, save yo' own butt… an' my girl's." He gave her a wry grin and a nod before slipping past. 

As he came up beside her, Max quietly inquired, "You don't think he means Joshua and his crew too, do you?" 

Alec shook his head. "Let's hope not. Maybe he won't bother with them now that he has us." 

They started to walk forward, hands raised, when White called out, "The others too. Your pals in the van." 

Alec groaned. "Shit. Things can never just go our way can they?" They watched the group pile out of the van, Joshua, some strange lizard-like creature from the driver's seat, and two more from the back, the details of whose appearance were difficult to discern from this distance and angle. 

"What about the rest?" Joshua called out. 

"The rest?" Max and Alec glanced at each other quizzically. 

White looked suddenly wary. "What 'rest'?" 

"Those rest." And suddenly there they were—lining up the rooftops, popping up from behind dumpsters, appearing in doorways—dozens of transgenics, surrounding the two groups facing off down below. Each was armed and prepared to fight, prepared to defend, and they outnumbered White and his little group in an overwhelming amount. 

"Looks like some things _do_ go our way," Max observed with a smile, directing it at Alec. 

  
TBC 

  
  
  
**A/N:** Hmm… eerily familiar scene, don't you think? Yeah, I took the idea from SAH, since I wanted to keep some sort of parallelism with the show, which was a little difficult to do what with the fact that I began this thing back just after DDA aired. Plus, I really liked the development they gave Joshua with the whole Terminal City move—and me takes what me likes! Don't worry, the remaining chapters are completely original… plus we'll finally get to find out what Joshua's been up to. 

**A/A/N:** Hey Deb, that bullet was for you! Cuz you were oh so insistent on getting your Alec-hurt… though I don't think he appreciated it much. 


	18. Cold

**A/N:**  I know there were some (valid) issues with the last chapter, but believe me when I say I wrote it that way with a purpose.  Hopefully, you'll see that and understand soon enough.

**A/A/N:**  Warning, this chapter's a bit darker, so prepare yourselves.  How, exactly, you would do that, I have no idea.  Maybe it's just a mental state you have to get yourself into… who knows?

**Friction**

**Chapter 18:  "Cold"**

There were many things that Max could say about Ames White—none of which good, not necessarily because there was absolutely nothing good about the man, but because if there was, she would never in her life even consider admitting to it—but one thing she could not say, was that he was a fool.  A quick glance about their surroundings revealed the truth, that there was no way he and his men would survive this little showdown if they chose to fight.  So instead he lowered his gun, indicating with a slight gesture for his men to do the same.

"So," he said slowly, cautiously, turning his eyes in Max's direction, "What now?"

Behind her, she heard car doors open and shut as, presumably, Logan, OC, and Asha joined them now that it was safe to do so.  "Now?"  Max grinned, reveling in the feeling of having the tables turned so abruptly and unexpectedly.  "Well, now you drop your weapons"—they did as they were told, albeit resentfully and with hesitation—"and then we'll see about the rest."

She exchanged a glance with Alec, who remained uncharacteristically quiet, no hint of his thoughts displayed on his face, but it was Joshua who responded next.  Not by speaking, though, but by striding forth and grabbing White by the collar.

Startled, Max began, "Joshua, what—" but he cut her off before she could say more.

"Max, back off.  This is what I have to do," he said, his usually gruff voice even more so with the barely contained rage at finally being face-to-face with the man who had killed the only hope he'd ever had of being accepted by the world despite what he was—for _who_ he was.

"This?" she inquired, dreading the answer even as she asked the question.  "What 'this'?"  She hated the look in his eyes; she feared what it meant.  She feared how he stared only at White, never turning his gaze away, even as he directed his words at her.

"What's the matter, 452?" White sneered, not at all intimidated by the much larger figure standing before him, hands wrapped so precariously close to his own neck.  "Can't keep a tight enough grip on the leash?"  No, Ames White was no fool—but sometimes he could be a little too cocky for his own good.

A growl burst forth from Joshua's lips, and he slammed the other man, hard, up against the hood of the nearest truck.  A couple of White's agents moved instinctively to their boss' aid, but before they could manage more than a step, and before White could recover from the blow, Joshua pulled something from the waist of his pants, freezing them all in place.  "This," he replied to Max's question.

_Oh no_, Max thought, eyes widening in shock, as she recognized the object.  A gun.  A gun pointed at Agent White's head, in the center of his forehead, the metal surface pressing right into his flesh.  It pinned him still against the front of the truck, bent slightly backward, hands raised in submission.  The tension in the air thickened even further, as everyone watched and waited to see what would happen next.

"Joshua," she said, her voice quiet and urgent, "No."

"Yes," he argued, his anguished tone stopping before she even attempted to take a step closer.  "He killed Annie.  He has to pay."

"I know, I know he does.  But not like this."  No, definitely not like this, and not at his hands.  The mere thought of what would become of her friend if he went through with this, frightened her to no end.  He wasn't a killer, not even a soldier like the rest of them.  He had no one's blood on his hands—and damned if she wasn't going to do everything in her power to keep it that way.

"Yes, like this!" he roared, pressing the gun a little harder, forcing White's head back another couple of inches.  The position looked rather uncomfortable, but not so uncomfortable as he must feel having the potential instrument of his death planted against his brain, with only an inch or so of valuable tissue, bone, and liquid in between.

Max's hopes plummeted a bit, as she wracked her brain for the magical words that would make this all better, stop this all by making him see why he couldn't do this.  Why she couldn't let him.  "Joshua, please, just listen to me…"

"There's nothing to say, Max," he replied abruptly.  "Words make no difference.  You've had a week with your words, to try to change this, to make this better.  They don't work.  With just words, White is still out there, still killing our kind.  Still killing innocent people… like Annie."  The rage humbled slightly, into sadness, on her name.  But then he steeled himself once more, refocusing on the murderer before him.  "What reason can you give me not to do this?"

Everyone was waiting for her to speak, to answer, to fix this.  Except, the only problem was that she had no idea what to say, or how to do that.  He was right, and he wasn't saying anything she hadn't thought of herself, that she didn't _believe_ herself, so how could she put up an argument with enough credibility to change his mind?

She couldn't.

Opening her mouth to speak, and finding no words forthcoming, she closed it again.  She shook her head, in semi-defeat.  All she could conceive was to say something along the lines of how killing him in cold-blood would make him no different than White—but that was likely to have little effect on her grieving friend.  Because wouldn't killing White, a murderer himself, one singly focused on eradicating their kind, save more lives than was necessary to justify the act?  Hadn't she asked herself that question hundreds of times before… and hadn't she always ended the internal debate with the simple answer, 'I don't know'.

Think, Max, think.  There has to be something you can say… 

But before she could go any further, the burden was removed from her shoulders by an unexpected source.  Though if she'd thought about it, really thought it through, she might not have been so surprised.

Alec stepped forward, "Because you're not a killer."  Simple and matter-of-fact, no pleading tone to his words, no attempt to manipulate through his sense of friendship, just someone with an answer responding to someone else with a question.

Joshua did sneak a quick glance then, in Alec's direction, just the barest movement of his head, managing it with his peripheral vision.  But the gun held up to White's face did not waver.  "If I have to, I can be."

Max swallowed thickly.  If Alec couldn't reach him, she hated to think of what would happen.  And she hated the fact that couldn't seem to think of any way to prevent it.  Helpless, that's how she felt.  Helpless, to do anything but merely watch.

"No, not like this.  Not in cold blood," Alec answered, shaking his head sadly.  His mournful voice spoke of regret and knowledge attained through experience.  "Because if you do this, you won't be the same person you were before.  You won't be the man that Annie knew.  The man she loved."

They heard a contemptuous snort from White, and disgust flashed over his features as he spat, "Oh, for god's sake…"

Alec's eyes turned in his direction, his face setting in a cold expression.  "He already has plenty of reasons to kill you, White.  If you value your life at all, you won't give him more."  White didn't look happy, but Alec's words, his logic, silenced him.  His revulsion at the thought of a human woman falling for the 'creature' before him was overshadowed by his survival instinct.  "Good choice," Alec told him quietly.

Then he turned back to Joshua, who still held the gun against the man's flesh, but his grip was a little less tight, a little less fierce, and his expression tinged with just the least bit of uncertainty.  "The first time you see a… body, that just moments ago was filled with life, a life that _you_ ended, you'll understand.  When you look into the empty eyes of man you killed—you'll feel empty too.  It'll make you cold, Joshua"—and he _sounded_ cold, empty, dead inside, as he took a step closer—"it'll make you tired and brittle.  And once you cross that line, there's no going back.  Ever.  You'll remember that moment… for the rest of your life."

Max closed her eyes for a second, and opened them, blinking away the spell Alec's words, and his voice seemed to have woven over her.  And not only her, she could see, but just about everyone around her as well.  Especially Joshua, whose hesitation had turned full-blown, as his finger easing off the trigger, and the rage in his eyes cooling to just angry embers of their former fire.  He was already leaning back a little, a good inch between White and the barrel of the gun.

"And it doesn't matter _who_ it is you killed—who he was, what he did, how many _he'd_ killed… he won't matter at all."  He was still advancing, almost unnoticeably so, the subtlety of his movements almost as disarming as his gentle voice, not so gentle words.  "Just you.  Just what's left of you."

"You won't be the same man," he continued softly, insistently, as Joshua's arm began to lower.  The larger man took a slow step back, moving away from his would-be victim.  "And the man you will be—that's not who you want to be."  Alec reached up cautiously, taking the gun from his friend.

Max breathed a silent sigh of relief, along with several other members of the 'audience', but none so much as the man who had just barely evaded death.  White straightened slightly, pulling himself off the truck's hood and taking several steps sideways, away from Joshua.

_Disaster averted, and thanks to Alec_.  But alongside that thought, Max felt a sudden rush of guilt for the way she'd been treating him, her fucked-up sense of conscience telling her it was alright to blame him for all her turmoil, all the conflicting feelings that assaulted her when she thought of him, of Logan, of how she could think of Alec the way that she did, when it was Logan she was supposed to love.  And she owed him an explanation.

But halting her from moving too far into either her celebrations or self-recriminations, Alec spoke again.

"But me—that's who I already am."

And before anyone even realized his intentions, Alec turned back to White, raised the gun, and fired.

TBC


	19. Play it Safe

**A/N:**  Okay, I would have had this chapter up quicker, except I'm having issues with the site.  I seemed to have disappeared from the regular listings, so people can only see that I've updated if they go to the "just in" directory.  Try and find me in the regular directory—I'm not there.  Arrrgh.  It's damn frustrating.  I've reported the problem, but so far, nothing.  Anyway, I cannot wait any longer… the story must go on!

**Rant:**  I see I startled you with the ending of the last chapter.  Hell, I surprised even myself when I came up with idea.  I was afraid of what that might do to the story, considering the relatively lighthearted mood up until then, so that's why I wrote it open-ended.  As you might have noticed, I never said he _hit_ White, or that the bullet was fatal, just that he raised the gun and fired.  I was actually waiting on the response to see which way to take it (what can I say, I wasn't brave enough to head off in that direction without support).  Since I think all but one person adamantly insisted that Alec should have killed White, I've decided to bow to the majority opinion.

I already wrote a bit of each version of the chapter, so here's a little of the one I chose not to go with, just for comparison's sake:

*****

The shot fired off, just one half-inch left from Agent White's head, so close that the sound must have momentarily deafened him.  So close it was enough to make everyone watching flinch.

But he'd missed.

Not that he couldn't have made it, if he'd tried.  Not that he hadn't wanted to make it—really, really wanted to make it.

But he'd missed.

Alec watched the other man pale at the realization of how close he'd just come to kissing his time on this mortal plane goodbye, watched as he slumped against the side of the truck, lending support to his shaky legs.  "What happened, Mr. Pain-is-a-phantom-of-the-mind?" he smirked.  "Haven't conquered fear yet?"

*****

Now, onto the favored version.

**Friction**

**Chapter 19:  "Play it Safe"**

Silence.

It's amazing how loud it can be.  How complete and consuming.

Especially when there's a man lying dead at your feet—killed, in cold blood, by your hand.

Shock.

It's startling how palpable it can be.  Rolling off people in mute waves, no one daring to speak, to move, as if fearing that doing so might make them your next target.

How little they knew him.  He wasn't crazy, not murderous, not out of control.  He was a soldier.  A soldier who had evaluated the situation, determined and weighed his options, made a tactical decision, then followed it through.

He was a soldier.

Remember that.

The gun, still held in his outstretched hand, moved until it focused in on its next target.  The man, dazed over his boss' untimely demise, flinched visibly when he realized he was next to be sighted in the crosshairs.

"Go," he said, voice so amazingly controlled and cold.  He could see why he might frighten them—hell, if he'd allowed himself to _feel_ anything, he might have frightened even himself.

And that was why he wouldn't feel anything.

The men hesitated, lingering over the unmoving figure on the ground, but he shook his head before they could act.  "Leave it," he indicated the body.  "Don't want him coming back from the dead to haunt us a few months down the line."  They eyed him with skepticism, confusion, fear, and a number of other emotions that fluttered across their nameless faces.  He merely shrugged.  "It's been known to happen."

It wasn't until after they'd piled into their vehicles and driven out of sight that he lowered the weapon.  And this left him with the awkward decision of what to do next.  He couldn't turn around, not when _she_ was standing there.  The thought of seeing that look in her eyes, that expression of shock, revulsion, fear—all directed toward him—was almost enough to draw him out of his numb shell.  Almost.

Sliding on the safety, he tucked the gun into the waist of his pants.  Behind him, and all around, movement began—finally.  Now that the weapon was out of sight, they were all willing to return to the land of the mobile.

"You're bleeding," Joshua's quiet words were directed at him.

He nodded.  "Bullets will do that to you."

"We should take care of that."

He nodded again.  While Joshua led the way, he followed silently, careful to keep his gaze trained straight ahead, not to let it waver to the sides, nor to let it waver to the ground.  Because if it did, he wasn't sure he could make himself look up ever again.

He'd done what he had to do, what he'd been made, and trained, to do.  He was a soldier.

He'd done what White would have done in his place without hesitation—and what Max wouldn't have done, what would have made her vulnerable.  She'd seen her decision in her eyes before Joshua acted, and she was ready to let them go.  Let them go, to come back and hunt them another day, to leave nothing changed, everything the same.

Max wasn't one for change.

And he'd let them go as well, but only after taking off the head of the beast.  While they might send others in his place, there was one less person trying to gun them down in this world now.  A good thing.  And if the choice were his to make all over again, he'd do the same again.

The trip inside, to the makeshift 'headquarters' was quiet.  Once they were there, he seated before another transgenic, who moved swiftly and silently, removing the bullet from his arm and tending to the bleeding, the others seemed to find their voices.  But no one spoke of what had just happened.

"So," Max began somewhat awkwardly as she sat next to Joshua, "Was this what you were up to this whole time, Big Fella?"

"Trying to get White's attention," he answered, "To get him to Terminal City.  Then you and Alec showed up, and he spotted you."

Joshua's low rumble was loud enough for Alec's ears to pick up, though he wasn't trying.  He tried to remain focused on his injury—the sharp pain as the bullet was removed, the wound cleaned—while continuing to ignore those around him, including the individual patching him up.  He didn't know the other transgenic's name, they hadn't stop to exchange pleasantries, but it was clear he was no more eager to draw out the experience than him.

Strange, not long ago, he'd thought this would be a moment to celebrate.  After all, their enemy, or one of their enemies, was dead.  One less person hunting them down.  One less person wanting them wiped from existence.  So why the somber faces, the uncomfortable silences?  Why did Max keeping sneaking sidelong glances in his direction as if, just because he wasn't looking back, he couldn't tell she was doing it?

"I only wish you would've told me Joshua," was Max's soft reply.  "We were worried about you, that's all.  I mean, if White had gotten his hands on you…" she faltered, and Alec wondered whether it was the thought of what would come next that bothered her, or just the mention of White's name and the memory it conjured.

"Anyway," she continued, "we lost track of you in the sewers.  How'd you find us?"

"Yeah, that's right"—that was Logan—"how'd you know we'd be driving by?"

"We saw you.  Followed you after the sewers because White would come after you now—and ignore the others."

Alec's head snapped up at the words, startling the transgenic who was now wrapping the wound, but he said nothing.

Max continued, not making the connection that had just struck Alec.  "But if you were following us since the sewers, why didn't you do anything?  Why didn't you just meet up with us, and then let White follow?"

Joshua ducked his head, embarrassedly revealing what Alec had already suspected, in a quiet voice that no human—including the three seated in the vicinity—would have heard.  "Little Fella was in heat."

"Oh."  It was so quiet, without any hint of emotion, and he knew that though the information had been processed, the full implications of it had yet to sink in.  Then, "_Oh._"  Another sideways glance in his direction, and then she too lowered her head.  "How did you…?"

Joshua brushed the back of his hand along his nose.  "Smelled it."

"Oh."  Silence for a little while.

They left the topic then, moving onto other matters, and introductions, as Max and the others met a number of the other Terminal City residents whom Joshua had befriended.  Alec stood and walked away from the group, feeling her eyes on his back the entire time.

_I'm not going to kill anyone else, Max.  You don't have to keep watching me._

He silently approached the odd lizard-like creature who stood off to the side, the one he remembered getting out of the van with Joshua earlier.  A cigar stuck out of the corner of the transgenic's mouth, a shotgun propped casually over his shoulder.

"Hey," Alec greeted cautiously.

"Hey," he returned, pulling the cigar from his lips.

"The body—is it still outside?"

The transgenic took a quick puff.  "No, we brought it inside."  There was no condemnation or discomfort in his voice, only a certain amount of… respect.  A shoot-first kind of guy himself, probably.  "Over there," he jerked the thumb of the hand holding the cigar over his shoulder.  Alec nodded, glancing away as he took a deep breath, and the other man continued, "Burial or cremation?"

He considered that silently.  "Cremation."  After all, where was he going to find a suitable site for an unmarked grave around here?

"Alright."  Another puff.  "We'll take care of it."  Pause.  "You did a good thing here, man."

Alec's eyes snapped back in his direction, but he said nothing.

The transgenic shrugged.  "It's what Manticore taught us to do, right?  Survive."

Survive.  Right.

He nodded and headed back to the little group.  He needed out of here—away from this place for now.  And there was no reason to stay any longer.  Before he could reach them, he saw Logan pull Max aside, whispering something quietly, but Alec heard anyway.  "Can we talk?"  Max watched him for a second then nodded, before leading him out of sight.

Oh, happy ending, here it came.

This was where she reevaluated the situation after everything that had happened over the past two days, and decided that it was time to tell Logan the truth.  And then they made up as they realized that their love could triumph over any adversity—including deadly viruses targeted to one's specific DNA, carried through the other's touch—and whatever they did have was worth hanging on to.

And Alec… Alec who?

Besides, what did he care?  What difference would it have made for him either way?  Like she would have realistically considered choosing him, even if she didn't hook back up with Logan.  Especially now…

The happy ending was not for him.  No, never for him.  And it didn't matter, because he didn't need one.  He was a soldier.

Was it too much to hope it was mutual attraction that had driven them in the events of the past two days?  Was it too much to hope that she might feel the same way about him that he did about her?  Apparently, it was.  And now that he thought about it, everything—all of it, every sign he'd taken as indication of that 'mutual' attraction—could be explained away in terms of her heat, and the pheromone-induced magnetism between any opposite-gendered X's in their situation.

Damn her.  Damn her for letting him thin there was more to this than there really was.  Damn her for giving him that hope.  And damn him for falling for it… for falling for _her_.

Alec approached OC and Joshua, announcing abruptly, "I'm heading off."

"Where to?" OC asked, watching him intently.__

He shrugged.  "Don't know."

"Well, how are you going to get there?" Asha piped up, drawing his attention.  The slight blond seemed to be adjusting fairly admirably to the presence of the many odd-looking transgenics milling about around them.  "You don't have a ride."

"I'll figure something out," was all he said.

"At least tell Max—" OC began.

"No," he interrupted sharply.  "I don't need her approval, I don't need to check in with her.  I'm leaving."  He ignored the looks they shared as he stormed off, pretended that it didn't matter.

He walked, at first, until he was far enough out of Terminal City to hitch a ride.  It wasn't hard, even with his bloodied sleeve and his haggard expression, some kind-faced middle-aged woman stopped for him.  With a strained smile he gave some story about being mugged, and it was accepted easily.  He turned down the offer for a trip to the police station—what were they going to do anyway?  And no, the cut wasn't deep; it'd already stopped bleeding once he'd wrapped it.

A few blocks from his apartment, he got off, smiling a thanks for the ride.  He'd make the rest by foot, since he wasn't up for anymore of the strained conversation.  Except he didn't know where to go.

Home?  Right, he could have laughed out loud at the word.  Home is where the heart is… well he must have left his in the womb, because he couldn't remember ever having one.

The Crash?  A few drinks to fortify this numbness, maybe a distraction to keep his mind off… things.  The pain in his arm changed his mind though, and he ended up at the drugstore instead, picking up some painkillers and, at the last second, a bottle of scotch.  Then one more.  The fortification thing didn't sound like such a bad idea.

He made it to his building before cracking open the first bottle, and pulled out the painkillers.  "Do not mix medication with alcohol," he read aloud.  "Yeah, well, I think I'll survive."  The pills went down with a single gulp.  And then he was at his door, unlocking it, turning the knob.  The curtains were closed but he didn't bother with the light.

Behind him, the door clicked shut, and he turned toward the living room, fully prepared to spend the remainder of the day drinking away his dinner—or breakfast, or lunch.  What the fuck, make it all three; he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

But then he heard a movement from across the room, and abruptly, he swung around.

"What took you so long?"

TBC


	20. Take a Chance

**A/N:**  RagingConfusion – Interesting idea, though I'm not quite sure how I would do that…  Besides, it'd just be two different ways of getting to the same ending, and not much room for divergence, since there are only two more chapters after this.  And to everyone who clued me into the whole ratings change—thanks.  Though it kind of sucks, if you ask me.  I mean, the titles and summaries are all already G-rated, so what's the problem?  It only adds to the confusion and lessens exposure for the R-rated and NC-17 stuff.  Pffttt… I just don't like it.

**A/A/N:**  No, I'm not going to have Alec wallow in the guilt of having killed in cold blood.  I think he can justify that to himself, since killing White was for "the greater good".  It's just the aftermath of his actions, in terms of his relationship with Max, that's at issue.

**Friction**

**Chapter 20:  "Take a Chance"**

She'd been waiting for him for a while now—too long, in fact—after letting herself in through the living room window.  He should have been back by now; if everything was all right, he should have been here by now.

"Always alright, my ass," she grumbled as she paced the length of the little room.

Not only had he had a head start on her, but she'd also had to backtrack, first getting a ride from Logan to the warehouse where she'd been forced to abandon her bike the previous day.  Then she'd taken Cindy back to their place—while Logan assured her he'd see Joshua home—before coming back _here_ to see _him_.  In her mind, the possibilities ran through, endless and oblivious to what they were doing to her in her already anxious state.  Maybe something happened to him.  Maybe his injury was worse than he let on.  Maybe White's men had followed him.  Maybe he went to the Crash to pick up some bimbo…

It had better not be the last one—for his sake, it had better not be.

_But he just took a bullet a few hours ago_, Max assured herself.  _He wouldn't be up for it right now…_

_This is _Alec_ you're talking about.  He's _always_ up for it._

She began her pacing anew, peppering her concern with muttered ranting of a particular transgenic's overactive libido.  Then she heard it, the sound of a key being inserted into a lock, and she stopped mid-stride at one end of the room.  His head was slightly down as he let the momentum of the door itself shut it behind him, and started toward the center of the living room.  One hand held a medium-sized bag to his chest; the other balanced an open bottle and his keys.  He hadn't noticed her.

"What took you so long?" she inquired, letting out a relieved breath—relieved that he was okay and relieved that he was alone—and thus announcing her presence.  He swung to face her, his startled gaze connecting with hers, and she allowed herself a moment to indulge the thought that he looked quite adorable when he was caught off guard.  Especially with his hair all messy like that, though honestly, she liked it better when it was shorter.  "Came in through the window," she explained with a slight inclination of her head.  "Sticky lock—you should really have that checked out."

Stance relaxing only slightly, he walked to the kitchen and set bag, bottle, and keys on the counter.  "What are you doing here?" he asked without looking at her.

"I came to talk."

Whatever momentary opening she'd witnessed in those first few seconds was gone as he turned to face her.  "There's nothing to talk about," he replied stoically.

"Nothing to talk about," she repeated.  "After everything that's happened these past two days, you can say that?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against the counter.  "Okay, let me correct myself.  There's nothing I _want_ to talk about."

"Well, it doesn't matter what you _want_…" she began in irritation.

His voice was quiet as he interrupted her, but she heard him easily, "It never does, does it?"

Max paused, studying his expression, to see if perhaps she could find an explanation there, but there was nothing—no hint, no clue, nothing to indicate what he was feeling or thinking.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Shaking his head, "Nothing."  He turned back around, his hand seeking out the open bottle, and he took a long swig of the liquid inside.

"No, not nothing," she returned heatedly, annoyed when he wouldn't look at her.  "If it were nothing, you wouldn't have said it."  She gave him a moment, but when he didn't reply, she strode across the room in a few quick steps, and grabbed his uninjured arm.

The instant she touched him, he whirled around, the sharpness of the movement making her stumble back a half step.  His expression froze her to the spot and she wondered if he would hit her, if that was what he was looking for—a fight, a way to relieve the tension of the emotions he was bottling up inside himself.

Instead, he kissed her, a hard and bruising kiss that seemed almost punishing—though whether he was punishing her or himself, she couldn't say.  Her first thought, as his tongue delved into her mouth, was that he tasted like scotch.  But underneath was the flavor that was distinctly him, which surprised her—that recognition—what with her limited prior experience.  When he pulled away, just enough so that their mouths no longer met, she realized that he had pulled her flush against him.  Her hands rested flat on his shoulders, as if bracing herself against the onslaught, while his were on her back and in her hair.

He was watching her, and they were both breathing heavily.  "That's what it meant," he whispered harshly, his words releasing warm air against her face.

She fumbled to bring her thoughts into order, to come up with some sort of response, but Alec saved her the trouble by latching onto her lips once again.  Just as fierce as before, except this time he was propelling her backward, guiding her with his own steps, until they reached the couch.  She fell as the backs of her legs met the obstruction, taking him with her, but they never once broke the kiss.  The feverish, frenzied meeting of mouth against mouth—and she knew now that it was both; he was punishing them both.

Max reached one hand up into his hair, fingers clutching at its thickness, while the other traced a downward path of the hard plane of his back.  She felt him reach below and spread her legs, hooking them around his waist as he resettled himself in between.  Then his fingers were at her coat, coaxing it off, his lips leaving hers to trace a path along her jaw, to her neck, down her throat.  And she arched her back, letting him finish the task, tossing the one lost barrier aside.  Suddenly, he pulled back.

Cold air replaced the warm body, and her empty hands fell back to her sides.  Her eyes popped open as she raised herself to her elbows, to figure out what had just happened.  "Alec?" her voice was still husky with desire, but mingled with confusion.

He was sitting, at the far end of the couch, faced straight ahead, head tilted forward, breathing heavy but trying to get it under control.  "I'm sorry," he rasped.

She followed him, sitting up as he was, trying to clear her mind enough to understand what he was saying.  "For what?"

"I shouldn't have done that," he answered quietly.

"Oh."  She glanced down, not sure how she was expected to respond.  "Okay."  Then abruptly, she looked up, "I'm sorry too."

Now it was his turn to appear confused, as he turned toward her.  "For what?"

"For this…"  And she grabbed him by the back of the neck, fingers cradling the flesh where she knew his barcode would be, forcing him forward to meet her halfway into the kiss.  She held him there until she felt confident he wouldn't pull away, and then dragged herself over, into his lap.  Feeling his hands on her hips, steadying her as she straddled him, she deepened the kiss and flicked her tongue past his lips.  A little return play was only fair, after all.  Her hands roamed free, over his broad shoulders, down his hard chest, and tight stomach.

And it wasn't as if his hands were idle either—they traced her back, her sides, running down so the palms just barely cupped the outline of her breasts, landing on her waist, as he pulled her impossibly close.  When she ground herself against him, she felt him groan into her mouth, causing her lips to curve slightly in response.

Just when it seemed he was finally giving, he tore himself away again, resting his forehead against hers as he took a deep breath.

"Max…" he pleaded, his down-turned eyes were blocked from view by heavy lashes.

"Have you noticed," she began, restraining herself, and making no move to resume what he'd halted, "that you're the one to always break off all our kisses?  I don't think that's fair.  I think the person who initiates it should be the one to break it off."

"We have to stop," he insisted quietly.

She traced the curve of his cheekbone with her fingertips, felt him tremble slightly as his eyes closed and reopened.  "Why?"

"Logan."

Max froze.  "That's not a reason."

Sighing softly, he picked her from her lap and shifted her onto the couch, then stood and walked to the window, leaning against it.  The curtains were closed; he obviously wasn't there to enjoy the view.  "If it weren't for the virus, you wouldn't be here.  With me."

It was her turn to sigh now as she watched him.  "But there _is_ the virus.  And I can't change that.  No one can."

"But if you could, would you?  If the virus were suddenly gone, would you go back to Logan?"  He turned and stared at her, and the soldier was definitely gone; in his place was a man, a man frightened and confused.  "I want to know if this is real, Max.  Are you here because of me, or because you can't be with him?"

"Alec…"

He went on, ignoring her interruption, "Because this is real for me; I'm here because of you.  And I don't want you here if you can't say the same."  Then, hesitantly, "Can you?"

"Alec," she stood, taking a step toward him, "What is, is.  This is how things _are_.  Why are you suddenly dwelling on what could have been, what might have been?  _It isn't_."

He looked dejected as he lowered his head.  "That's not a yes."

"It's not a no either."

He shook his head.  "I need a yes.  I can't do—_this—_without a yes."  And then he was pulling away from the window, heading toward the door.  This was his apartment, she could point that out, but Max doubted that would make a difference.  She knew that need that was coursing through him now—the need to simply escape.  To be free and alone to dwell in one's own thoughts.  If it were her, she'd be heading to the Needle right now; as it was Alec, she had no idea what to think.  The only place she ever seen him seek refuge was the bottom of a bottle.

"Alec, wait," she called after him.  "Don't leave, not like this."

He paused, be he didn't turn back.  "How else would you have me go?"

"I don't know…  Not like this."

She heard a sigh before he spoke, "It's the only way I _can_ go, Max.  Any other way and… I don't think I could make myself leave."

Watching mutely as he reached the exit and placed his hand on the doorknob, she wondered why it always had to be like this for her.  This was as bad as it had been with Logan.  No, this was _worse_.  Because this was her second chance, and second chances were supposed to make up for the first.  To lose it all again, just like that…  And why?

_Because last time I let myself get hurt and I'm afraid._

_Because last time _he_ let himself get hurt and _he's_ afraid._

"No."

He hesitated and turned, clearly confused.  "What?"

"I'm not letting you leave."

"Max—"

But whatever he was going to say, he didn't finish because in the next instant Max was in front of him, her superhuman speed letting her cross the distance between them before he even knew what she was doing.  She took him by the shoulders and slammed him back into the wooden surface behind him, hard enough to shake the door in its frame.

"I'm not letting you leave," she repeated.  "You are not walking away from this.  Play it safe, right Alec?  Is that your motto?  Don't get attached—" she punctuated each accusation by banging him back again—"don't get involved"—bang!—"don't take a chance"—bang!

She could see irritation and frustration rising in his eyes.  He grabbed her by the forearms, keeping her hands away from him so she couldn't keep repeating the motion.  His fingers dug painfully into her flesh and she knew it would probably leave bruises, but she said nothing.  At least there was passion in his eyes, fierce and real, and passion was something she could work with.

"I_ am_ involved.  I _am_ attached," he bit off, his grip tightening as he spoke.

"But you're not taking a chance."

He released her arms and leaned back heavily on the door.  "Take a chance at what, Max?  At being second best?  At being the one you settled for because you couldn't have the one you wanted?"  He sighed, a noise of exasperation and defeat melded into one, "I can't be what you want me to be."

"I'm not asking you to _be_ anything!" she replied fiercely.  "Or any_one_.  Not Logan, not Ben… just yourself.  Be—_Alec_.  That's always been more than enough."  Head tilting forward, she leaned her face into the warmth of his chest.  A slight, choked laugh punctuated her muffled words, "God, sometimes it's been _too much_."

She felt his hands come up and brush tentatively against her upper arms.  "Max—" he began, his discomfort and confusion apparent in his voice.

"No," she pulled back hastily and stared up into his eyes.  "Let me say this.  You're right—I probably wouldn't be here, with you, if there had never been a virus.  No," she corrected, shaking her head, "that's not right…  I _definitely_ wouldn't be here with you.  But there _is_ a virus, and things have changed because of it.  Me and Logan aren't going to be.  I'm not talking about destiny, or fate, or any of that… I'm talking about logic, pure and simple.  And I've dealt with it, and I've _been_ dealing with it for a while now, in case you haven't noticed."  Sighing, she continued, "Yes, if I had the chance to get rid of the damn virus, I'd take it, because Logan is my _friend_, if nothing else.  I care about him—I always will.  But he's also the _past_.  I can't change that; I don't even want to."  She watched her hands as she placed them against his chest, bracing herself, then looked back up into the green of his gaze.  "Would you change Rachel?" she said quietly, fearing slightly his response as she tread into this forbidden area.  "Would you go back and stop yourself from falling in love with her, if you could?"

Hearing a sharp intake of breath, she waited, and witnessed the slight darkening of his eyes as he absorbed her words.  Finally, he answered, "No.  No, I would never do that."

She exhaled slowly in relief.  "So… we understand each other?"

The slight curve of his lips as he replied, said more than his words ever could, "I think maybe you understand me better than I understand you."

Not bothering to fight the grin that consumed her features, she lean forward and placed a soft, almost chaste, kiss on his lips.  "Of course.  You're a guy; ignorance is expected of you."

His mouth followed hers, returning the favor with a little added force, before pulling back.  "I can't disappoint."  Alec moved to resume the kiss, but she withdrew.  Expression suddenly serious, she met his eyes with all the sincerity she felt.

"No.  You could never do that."

Then she dipped forward and completed the motion she'd aborted.  His hands came up, more confidently, running up her spine, then down, to below her waist, cupping her and pulling her closer.  Her breasts pushed into his chest, the thin layers of cloth between them not enough to disguise the telltale points of her arousal.  She moaned into his mouth and ground her hips against his.  The movements were all slow, careful and exploratory, not the frenzied actions from earlier, during her heat.  But when her fingers dipped to the waist of his pants, she sensed his hesitancy and though it pained her to do so, she tore herself away momentarily.  Her questioning glance met his, seeing the mixture of relief and disappointment there that told her, perhaps, she had done the right thing.

"I think," he began, his voice still thick with desire, then he paused to clear his throat before making another attempt, "I think you should talk to him first."  There was hardly a question as to whom he was referring.  "Tell him the truth."

Max watched him, considering.  "What 'truth' would this be, exactly?"  She was willing to hear him out in order to appease him, even if that meant putting other, more interesting, things on hold.  Of course, that didn't stop her hand from drifting up his inner thigh.

Alec swallowed thickly.  "That, uh, nothing happened… that night… um, between us."  He swallowed again.  "Can you stop doing that?"

"Oh, is it distracting you?" she replied innocently, letting her thumb caress the bulge of his pants.

"Max…" he practically whined, not continuing until she finally gave an exaggerated sigh of defeat and removed her hand.  But as she removed her hand, she did the same with the rest of her body, knowing that as long as they were pressed up against each other like this, there was going to be no coherent conversation.  Not that she would have minded that, except she wanted him to want this, to not go into this with doubts.

"Alright," she said, "Why do you now feel the sudden urge to tell Logan the truth about that night?"  When he refused to meet her gaze, focusing instead on moving from the door to the couch, her suspicions were confirmed.  "You still don't believe me, do you?  You still think that if he knew the truth, I'd go running back to him."

"No…" he started then stopped.  "Well, what am I supposed to think?" he abruptly demanded.  "You didn't break up with the guy because you didn't love him anymore; you did it because it was 'better for everyone' that way.  Do you remember that, Max?  That's what you said."  He shook his head, his frustration and insecurity apparent in every word, every gesture.  "If Logan's really your friend, are you prepared to spend the rest of your life _lying_ to him?  Do you want me to keep lying to him too?"

"But if I tell him the truth, what if he…" she faded off.

"What if he what?" Alec prompted.  "What if he tries to win you back?"  She didn't deny it because that _was_ what she'd been thinking.  "Max, he can only win you back if you want to be won," he finished tiredly.

"Alec—"

"Talk to him.  Tell him the truth."

She nodded.  "Fine.  Alright.  If that's what it takes to prove to you that _this_ is what I want, I will."  Brusquely, she grabbed her coat and headed toward the door.  But instead of leaving immediately, she backtracked to the kitchen, and snatched up the open bottle and the nearby lid off the kitchen counter.

"Hey," Alec protested, "I don't think Logan's much of a scotch man."

"And maybe you can learn something from him there."  She glared at him, screwing the cap back on.

"Oh c'mon, Maxie, it's just one bottle… hardly even enough to give me a buzz."

Max paused once at the doorway, turning to give him a stern look.  "You better be here when I get back."  She opened the door and, as an afterthought, added, "And you better be alone."

**********

"Logan, we need to talk."

He was sitting on the couch, not his usual position before his computer, when she arrived at the familiar apartment brief minutes later.  Her sudden and unannounced arrival via the less than conventional method of his window startled him in a way she hadn't seen since back in the old days, when they'd first made their little arrangement.  Maybe it was because she hadn't dropped by this way since their breakup.

"Okay, coffee just the way you like it—two creams, one sug—" the blond broke off as she entered the room and glanced up.  "Oh, hi Max."

Or maybe there was some other reason.

"Hi Asha."

The other woman passed Logan his cup, holding her own still in her hand.  She looked at Max hesitantly, the mood in the room having definitely taken a turn into the neighborhood of awkward.  "You want some coffee?"

"No thanks.  I'm good."

"Oh.  Okay."

Logan stood quickly, "Max, you said you needed to talk to me?  Why don't we go into the kitchen?"

Max followed him as he led the way at a brisk pace, and she couldn't help but notice the flash of disappointment that crossed Asha's face while she watched the pair leave, together.  But she didn't get a chance to indulge the thought as they entered the other room and Logan turned toward her, leaning back against the counter.  "Is something wrong?" he asked, frowning in concern.

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong," she assured him quickly.  "It's just… there's something I have to tell you."  He nodded, indicating for her to continue.  She took a deep breath before complying, "That day you saw Alec leaving my apartment…  Logan, nothing happened that night.  There was never anything between me and him."  The next burst of words came out in a stumbled rush, "I… well, I didn't lie, not technically.  Because, remember, you asked me to tell you it wasn't true, and I said I couldn't.  Not because it was, you see… but because… well, because…"

"Because you couldn't pass up that golden opportunity to push me away?" Logan finished for her.

Max winced.  "Logan, please…"  Then her face clouded as she realized something.  "Wait a minute… you don't seem that surprised by anything I'm telling you."

"That's because I'm not," he answered simply.  "In fact," he shrugged, "I'd kind of already figured it out.  I mean, it _was_ a pretty shallow ruse.  Especially when you two continued to act like you couldn't stand each other."

Max shook her head, at a near loss for words.  "But if you knew… then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because, I figured if you were willing to go that far to drive me away, then maybe I should just respect your wishes.  Maybe that's what you really needed."  He tilted his head forward, lowering his gaze and speaking softly, "It seems like we had our chance, Max, and we passed it up."  Then he looked back up, his eyebrows rising slightly, "The question is, why are you telling me this now?"

Now it was her turn to look down, as she chewed her lip somewhat guiltily.  "Alec told me to."

"Alec," he repeated, watching her thoughtfully.  "How is he?"

Max shrugged, "Alright, it seems."  Shifting her weight from her right leg to the left one, she glanced toward the door.

"How are you?"

"What do you mean?" she frowned.  "I'm fine.  Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, how are you with what happened today?" he clarified cautiously.  "Does it bother you, what he did?"

Max's eyes narrowed as tried to gauge his intention.  Then she realized he was just asking, not judging, not telling her that she _should_ be bothered—just a friend checking up on her.  She shook her head.  "No, it doesn't.  Because I know he did what he did because he thought it was the right thing to do—and maybe it was.  It was the tactically smart thing to do, that's for sure."

Logan seemed to accept that with a slow nod, watching her as she shifted her weight back to her right leg.  "You seem like you're in an awful hurry to get somewhere," he observed.  He stared down at his hands and continued, "Earlier, you said there _was_ never anything between you two.  Is there now?"  He glanced back up, meeting her gaze.

"Um, kind of.  Sort of.  Maybe," she answered awkwardly, then she sighed.  "He wanted me to come here and clear the air first, but otherwise, yeah, it looks that way."  Logan nodded, and she said, "Again, you're not surprised."

"Yeah, again, I kind of figured it out.  I mean, the way you were watching him after… at Terminal City, it was pretty hard not to piece it together."

"Really?  Alec didn't seem to piece it together very well."

Logan rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, well, it's usually most obvious to everyone but those directly involved."

She nodded, his answer eliciting an almost imperceptible quirk of her lips as she thought upon how true that statement rang, in situations besides her own.  "I should be going."  He said nothing.  "We're okay though?"

Smiling slightly, he nodded.  "Always."

"Good."  Relief washed through her and she moved toward the doorway that would take her back to the living room.  Then she spotted the blond woman sitting alone on the couch, drinking her coffee.  Raising a single dark brow, Max sent Logan a pointed glance.

"It's just coffee," he replied quickly to the unasked question, his hasty denial revealing that while there might not be more, there certainly could be, if given the chance.  "We're friends—that's all."

Max smiled, almost sadly, as she shook her head at him.  "Don't waste your time with coffee and pasta dinners, Logan.  We've both already passed up one chance; let's not pass up any more."  Without waiting for his response she left the room, eager to return to her own second chance.

"Later guys," she called over her shoulder as she slipped out the window, and made her exit, just as she'd made her entrance.

TBC

Whew!  Long chapter… my fingers and my brain are tired.  So do me a favor and review, please?


	21. Damage Control

**Friction**

**Chapter 21:  "Damage Control"**

For all her years of managing to avoid being captured by Manticore, Max was not a very thorough person, Alec thought as he lay back on the worn couch, one hand clutched loosely around the neck of the object that had inspired this thinking.  After all, even as she snatched up the open bottle of scotch from his kitchen counter, taking it with her as she left the apartment, she failed to notice that in the brown paper bag resting not a foot away on the very same counter, was another bottle of the very same liquid.

_Was_ being the operative word, for now it dangled carelessly from Alec's fingers, as he lay, head leaned back, counting the number of cracks in the ceiling.  He'd gotten to forty-five, then lost track.  Then twenty-three, and lost track again.  Then nine… and, yes, lost track once more.  Right now, on his fourth attempt, he had just reached five.

"Six… seven… eight…"

Before he could get any further, a familiar, very irritated face appeared in his line of sight, causing him to lose his place yet again.

"Max…" he grinned, immediately forgetting all about his previous task, and not at all bothered by the expression she was currently sporting.  He hadn't heard her come in, hadn't even noticed her until she was leaning right over him, her long silky hair dangling forward, framing her face, her full lips turned down in a frown that was almost a pout…  "You're so beautiful," he sighed.

His free hand reached up, wrapping around the back of her neck, and finding no resistance, pulled her down toward him.  A mere few inches from where his lips would have met their target, Max's true motives shone through, as she grabbed the bottle from his other hand and yanked it easily from his slack grip.  The distraction and his slowed reflexes kept him from stopping her as she then slipped from his hold and pulled back with her prize.

Ah well, there was almost nothing left in it anyway.

Alec rolled over, landing with a heavy thud on his hands and knees on the floor.  Then he pulled himself back up into a sitting position on the couch and turned back to Max.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded, shaking the bottle so the liquid inside sloshed about violently.

He laughed slightly, at her expression, and nodded toward the kitchen.  "Should've checked the bag, Maxie."

Her eyes followed the direction he'd indicated then turned back to him.  "Who picks up _two_ bottles of scotch for one night of binge-drinking?" she grumbled irritably.

"A transgenic with an increased metabolishm," he replied.  He rubbed a hand over his face, but upon removing it, found Max staring at him, one eyebrow raised contemplatively.  "What?"

"An increased what?"

He looked at her blankly.  "Huh?"

Now it was Max's turn to grin, as she shook her head.  "I thought you said one bottle was hardly enough to give you a buzz?"

"Yeah, well, _normally_ that'd be true," he replied, closing and opening his eyes a few times as he realized that the effects of the alcohol were much stronger than usual, "But I haven't slept or eaten in like a day…"

After a few more seconds of this, the room became much steadier.  Turning, he found Max standing at one end of the couch, just a few feet away, and he reached for her.  She mistook his intentions, thinking he was attempting to retrieve the confiscated bottle, and held the object with one hand up in the air, while using the other to swat away his arm.  But he hooked it around her waist, and with one forceful tug, she landed in his lap.

"Alec," she began, her frustration clear in her voice and expression as she strained to escape his grasp while holding the bottle upright so the small remainder of the alcohol didn't spill all over them.

Flipping her over, onto her back, he pinned her in place with his own body.  If she really wanted him to stop, she should stop her wriggling, because that was not helping his situation—or maybe, in a way, it _was _helping, and that was the problem.  He took the bottle from her and placed it, blindly, on the coffee table.  It was only then, as she rubbed up against him in her struggles, that she seemed to figure it out, because she suddenly stilled beneath him.  He looked down into her eyes, and saw them darkened with a desire that mirrored his own.

Alec released her hands and used his own to trace the curves of her shoulders and her arms as he coaxed her out of her jacket.  When he placed a kiss to the hollow of her throat, following the line of her collarbone, she let out a slight gasp, her hands gripping his shoulders, holding him tight against her.

But some part of her seemed intent on resisting, as she moaned out, "Alec, we have to talk."

He bit back a frustrated groan, and continued planting kisses along her throat, and up, nibbling on her chin and moving achingly closer to her mouth.  "Thought you…" he managed between kisses, "… didn't want… to talk…"  His tongue traced her lips, and felt them part invitingly, but he held back, choosing to tease her instead.  "Thought you wanted…  to do more… interesting… things."

"I did," she gasped.  "I _do_… but we _really_ do… have to talk."

He grinned at the contradiction between her words and her actions, how she insisted on "talking" while she strained upward, her mouth striving to meet his.  He accommodated her, choosing to end her struggles by attacking her lips suddenly and mercilessly.  Then almost as abruptly, he pulled away, opening his eyes to stare down at her until she was looking back.  "Did you talk to Logan?" he asked, while his hips ground against hers.

She arched against him, "Yes!"

"Did you tell him the truth—about everything?" he continued, with another hard movement.

"Yes!"  Her fingers dug almost painfully into the flesh of his upper arms, just above his wound.

"Is it over between you two?"  Another thrust punctuated his question.

"Yes!"

Alec paused momentarily.  Was she really saying yes to all his questions, or was it merely an automatic response to his actions?  Well, there was one easy way to test it out.

"Can I borrow your ninja tomorrow?"  Thrust.

"No!"

He grinned as he leaned in for another kiss, letting his hands roam down her chest, contemplating the removal of her clothing.  "There—we talked."  His fingers found the slight tear in her shirt, the one she'd gotten back at the condemned building where they'd first run into Joshua.  What did she say about that?  Something about how he owed her a new one anyway…

A loud tearing sound seemed to bring Max out of her daze, her brown eyes widening as she stared up at him.  "Alec!"

He shrugged unapologetically, "I'll replace it… later."

"You know there's more…" she paused, shivering slightly as he traced his fingers along the revealed patch of skin between her breasts, the remaining pieces of the shirt still covering the rest, "… that we should talk about."

That stopped him, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, hanging his head so she couldn't see his face.  He had hoped she wouldn't want to talk about it, that she would just accept what had happened, and move on.  But this was _Max_ he was speaking of—how could he really have expected her to just accept and move on?  The girl was an expert in denial and lingering, and lingering in denial.  When he raised his head again, his face was carefully devoid of all his apprehension.

"Are you afraid?" he said softly.

His words seemed to startle her.  "Afraid?  Of what?"

"Of me, of what I am…" he looked away again.  "Of what I'll do."

He heard her sigh, and her hand came up, gently cupping his cheek while she forced him to meet her eyes.  "Look, you know I don't condone killing."

"I know," he returned quietly.

"But sometimes, it can't be avoided."  He nodded.  "But today—that _was_ avoidable."

He nodded again, slowly, and closed his eyes.  "I understand."

"No you don't."  Alec looked at her.  "You're a soldier.  I couldn't expect twenty-odd years of training to be overridden by a few months on the outside."  She smiled then, almost sadly, "Hell, for Zack even a decade wasn't enough."

Now he was shocked.  "You're comparing me to Zack?"  The idea was preposterous, simply ridiculous.

Max laughed.  "Don't get ahead of yourself.  You're _nothing_ like Zack."  Pausing, she seemed to choose her words very carefully before she continued, "I guess what I'm saying is that the soldier never dies; he just needs to start living."

Alec regarded her very somberly.  "That's really deep, Maxie.  Did you think that up just now?"

She smacked him across the shoulder as he laughed.  "Do you or do you not want to have sex with me?" she demanded.

His laughter disappeared as her movement caused her shirt to slip slightly off to one side.  He groaned, "God yes, I do."

"Then you better show me a little more respect," she said smugly.

The mood had eased somewhat, but the tension wasn't entirely gone yet.  "So… you don't hate me."  It was a statement, not a question, but he just felt the need to clarify.

Brushing a hand through his hair, sweeping any stray strands from his face before letting it come back to rest again his cheek, she smiled.  "I think that's pretty obvious," she replied, indicating their positions.  "There's no way I could hate you.  In fact, I…" she faltered.

He cupped the hand on his face.  "You what?" he demanded softly, trying not to sound too eager or hopeful.

"I…" she paused, looking almost shy as she glanced down, breaking their gaze.  "I kinda, you know, love you."

"You kinda, you know, love me?" he repeated, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice.  Oh, he'd been apprehensive, wondering if she'd actually say it—but if she did, he was hoping for something a little better than "kinda, you know".

Max looked up, meeting his eyes with a glare.  "Alright, damnit," she corrected, "I _do_ love you.  I, Max," she pointed toward herself, then made a heart shape with her hands, "love you, Alec," and concluded by jabbing one finger into his chest.  "Happy?"

He laughed.  Yes, he was, very much so.  "Look at you," he said, shaking his head.  "You can't even say you love me without turning it into an argument."

"Hey, _I'm_ not the one who started this!  It was you, with your—"

Alec cut her off with a kiss, a long, slow and thorough one that would hopefully have her forgetting whatever point she had been trying to make.  When he pulled away, he met her gaze seriously.  "Max, I love you."

She smiled up in return, her voice soft and hesitant.  "Really?"

He rolled his eyes.  "No, not really.  I'll just say whatever it takes to get between your legs."

He expected some sort of smart reply, or a blow of the physical sort.  Instead, she laughed, flexing her thighs around his hips, "You kind of already are, you know."

Groaning, he let his eyes flutter shut.  "God, Max, don't say things like that when all you wanna do is 'talk'."

Her lips brushed against his, she whispered seductively in his ear, "I think we're all done with the talking for now."

When she pulled him closer against herself, he complied happily, meeting her lips at every turn, hands peeling off the few remaining pieces of clothing between them.  He paused only once when a sudden thought struck him.  "And what if I never change?"  She stared up at him blankly.  "What if I never become more than the soldier?"

She remained silent, considering that before she placed another soft kiss on his lips.  "Then I'll love the soldier."

To be concluded 

**A/N:**  Yep, that's right folk.  Just the epilogue left to go.  Reviews will inspire me to complete this faster.


	22. Something Better

**

Friction 

**

  
Epilogue: "Something Better" 

  
  
  
"So, you're really gonna do this, huh?" Max watched as Joshua carefully packed into the small box whatever few items he planned to take with him for his move to Terminal City. 

"Don't wanna be alone, in this house, anymore," he replied quietly, though not sadly. In fact, all morning he had seemed much better than he'd been ever since this whole thing with Annie had begun, and he'd been forced to put an end to their relationship. Not great, not perfectly healed, but better. 

"You're not alone here," Max protested. "You have me, and Alec, and Original Cindy… and even Logan." 

"When you come here," he pointed out. "But rest of the time, I'm alone. I have to lie low. In Terminal City, people are like me. They're not afraid. They don't run away, and they don't want to hurt me." 

She nodded, letting out a sigh, not of defeat but acceptance. "I guess you're right, and I really shouldn't try to stop you from leaving. I mean, it's all about letting go and moving on, right?" Staring down at her hands thoughtfully, she fiddled with the strap of her watch, "Sometimes you just have to know when to let go of the past and move on. Because if you don't, you might miss out on something that's just as good—if not better—than what you were trying to hold onto." 

Glancing up, she found Joshua had stopped packing and was now watching her, a genuine grin on his face. "Max and Alec happy?" 

Smiling somewhat sheepishly at her own transparency, she answered, "Um, yeah, we are." 

A throat cleared behind them, and both turned to find Alec waiting in the doorway. Alec politely announcing his presence? What next—'thank yous', a 'please', and maybe 'bless you' after she sneezed? It was almost scary. 

"Mole's getting a little antsy out there," he said, jerking a thumb toward the front, where Joshua's ride awaited him. "You might want to get out there before you earn yourself a spot on his bad side. The guy makes Logan look easy-going." That earned him a slight glare from Max, which he returned by blowing her a kiss and tracing a heart in the air with his fingers. 

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin as she mouthed back, "You're such an idiot." Alec placed one hand over his heart and wiped away an imaginary tear. 

"I'm ready," Joshua announced, drawing their attention away from each other as he pulled up his hood to cover his face for the trip from the house to the beat-up little van. 

Max took the box from his hands and shifted it over to Alec before giving her friend a hug. "Alright, you be careful and stay out of trouble. I'll come to see you tomorrow, after work." 

He nodded then pulled away and retrieved his box, receiving a "Take care of yourself Big Fella" from Alec. 

"You too Medium Fella," he returned, giving him a hefty slap across the back that almost sent the other transgenic to the floor. With a part grin, he headed out the door, leaving the pair behind to observe his departure. 

Next to her, Alec sniffed slightly and threw an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly to his side. "They grow up so fast," he remarked, watching the van pull away. As soon as it was out of sight, he abruptly ushered Max back inside, closing the door behind them both. "So, what do you wanna do now?" he asked, grinning suggestively. Oh, like there was any _other_ way he knew how to grin. 

Max ducked out of his embrace. "I'm thinking we should go to work—see if we're even still employed there." 

"I'm not worried," he returned, following her when she slipped out of his reach. "After all, I _am_ Normal's golden boy." 

"You mean the inspiration for his wet dreams," she corrected, as he managed to pin her against the wall, his hands resting on either side of her head. 

Alec's eyes fluttered closed as a slight shudder went through his body. "No, I am not," he said, his tone belying that it was not so much a statement that he _believed_ as one which he _needed_ to believe. She didn't argue with him. Then his eyes reopened, and he grinned. "I think it's just because I'm much more personable than you. People tend to like me." 

Max scoffed, "People who don't know you, maybe." 

Giving her a pout, he leaned in and brushed a stray piece of hair from her face, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. "And what about people who do know me?" His other hand slipped under the edge of her shirt, traced the bare flesh up to the scant silk covering above, while his lips sought out that spot right in the hollow of her throat that was always guaranteed to melt her resolve. Warm breath hit her skin as he asked, in a deep, low voice, "You like me, don't you Maxie?" 

"Mmm…" she moaned as he lowered himself slowly, placing kisses along the way wherever he could find naked flesh. Then his tongue was dipping along her navel while his fingers worked the button of her jeans. "I like what you're doing to me." Her pants pooled around her ankles and he guided her out of them, coaxing her legs apart. 

"Hmm," his voice sent a slight vibration through her and his lips brushed along the last remaining barrier between them, "not good enough." Her fingers wound into his hair as he hooked a thumb through one edge of the fragile cloth, pulling it aside. His tongue dipped in and she arched up with a harsh cry. "Do you like me?" 

She didn't answer with anything more than a moan, causing him to repeat the action over again, and again, while she hooked one leg over his shoulder, enclosing him against her, her body moving in rhythm with his tongue. But just before she could reach the edge, he abruptly he pulled back. 

"Max…" he prompted. 

"Alec," she whimpered, tightening her grip on his hair, urging him to complete what he'd started. 

"I'm waiting." He leaned back his head to stare up at her. 

Frustrated brown eyes glared down at him as she finally gave in, "Yes, damnit! I like you! Now, will you finish it already?" 

Alec laughed, but seeing that impatience had dissolved her sense of humor, he quickly complied. It didn't take long before she was shuddering and screaming his name, the only thing keeping her up the wall at her back and his own strong arms. When it was over, and the waves had ebbed, she slid slowly down the wooden panel, joining him on the floor, letting him pull her into his embrace and seek out her mouth with his own. 

"I do like you, really," she said finally, breaking away. "Even when you're driving me insane, I like you." 

"And I like you too," he returned. "Even when you're being a bitch—" a backhanded blow to his shoulder interrupted him "—but, the important thing is that I do like you," he reminded her. Any further repercussions were avoided as he pulled her back for another kiss, letting their tongues mingle, tasting each other leisurely before breaking off for breath. 

"So I'm 'something better', huh?" he questioned softly through a grin she felt more than saw. 

Max drew back sharply, surprised he'd heard her earlier remark to Joshua. When she saw the cocky expression on his face and the mischievous sparkle to his eyes, she sighed, "You are so full of yourself." 

"Mmm," he kissed her, his hand slipping up the back of her shirt, unhooking her bra as he spoke, "but you wouldn't have me any other way." 

Laughing softly, she agreed, "No, I wouldn't." 

  


**fini**

  
  
  
**Some final thoughts:** Kind of short and fluffy, I know, but I had to wrap this sucker up somehow. But that's it… done, done, done. I'm so proud of myself—I actually managed to _finish_ a story. And I want to thank everyone who reviewed for their kind words, because despite the shaky start, your guys' encouragement really helped. This was a hard fandom to start writing in, but I think I have learned and grown from this experience. Anyway, clearly I'm not done with the whole thing (seeing as I already have three other unfinished projects going… and yes, to everyone who's been asking about those, they _will_ all be continued in due time), so I'm not really sad that this one's over. 

But don't forget to review, to let me hear your thoughts on just this chapter, or on the whole completed version of the story. 


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